


In Amber's Bookshelf

by naegkawa (HazeleyeandHermione)



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: F/F, Inspired by Poetry, T. J. Kippen & Amber Are Siblings, background tyrus, basically like a songfic but with poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2019-10-13 05:57:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17482451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazeleyeandHermione/pseuds/naegkawa
Summary: Amber Kippen has an extensive bookshelf in her room. Poetry is an escape away from the stress of a household falling apart. Her closest friend, Andi discovers Amber's love of literature and gay poetry and learns a lot more about the girl than she thought she would.





	1. Transcendental Etudes

 

> **_No one ever told us we had to study our lives,_ **
> 
> **_make of our lives a study, as if learning natural history_ **
> 
> **_music, that we should begin_ **
> 
> **_with the simple exercises first_ **
> 
> **_and slowly go on trying_ **
> 
> **_the hard ones, practicing till strength_ **
> 
> **_and accuracy became one with the daring_**

Amber woke up to the sound of early morning arguing. Her parents were in another fight over jobs or money or something temporary yet everlasting. Dawn had hardly begun to break (rays of light had not yet permeated their windows), yet that didn’t make a difference to the schedule of her father’s yelling. It seemed to be coming from the kitchen. An argument to pass the time while the coffee brewed.

She wondered how many of her classmates had the same morning routine. Amber often questioned whether or not her life could be considered normal. It seemed like a perfectly fine nuclear family, at the least. Two parents, two children, two men, two women _—_ it all came in perfectly even sets.

> **_to leap into transcendance, take the chance_ **
> 
> **_of breaking down the wild arpeggio_ **
> 
> **_or faulting the full sentence of the fugue._ ** 

She cast a look at the book of poetry left open on her nightstand. It was a reread for her, the pages already marked with pink highlighter and notes scribbled in the margins. _Dream of a Common Language_. Her attention was drawn again to her parents’ as she heard the volume escalate. Perhaps that was the issue. Men and women spoke different languages.

Amber cracked open her door and checked to see if the coast was clear. The last thing she wanted was to be dragged into one of her parents’ arguments. Quietly, she entered the hallways and walked over to the next room, knocking softly. “Hey, TJ, can I come in?”

Her brother opened the door. The bags under his eyes were prominent and his dirty blond hair was unkempt. “Of course. Mom and Dad woke you up, too?”

“Yeah.”

> **_And in fact we can’t live like that: we take on_ **
> 
> **_everything at once before we’ve even begun_ **
> 
> **_to read or mark time, we’re forced to begin_ **
> 
> **_in the midst of the hard movement,_ **
> 
> **_the one already sounding as we’re born._**

A fluffy, cream colored cat wrapped herself around Amber’s legs. She bent down and gave the cat a scratch on her ears. “Hey, pretty kitty. How’s my pretty Macaroni doing today?”

“She was scratching at my door. I figure I’d let her in,” TJ said. “I think she hates the all the fighting too. She must if she’s willing to come into _my_ room. The dumb cat likes you better.”

Amber pursed her lips, scooping up the cat in her arms, allowing Macaroni to put her paws up on her shoulder. “Shut up! She isn’t dumb! How could you say such a thing about her? She’s the second smartest one in this house next to me.”

“Oh please, Amber,” he scoffed and stuck his tongue out. “She must be an absolute idiot if she prefers you.”

There was a loud slam of some sort, causing the cat to leap out of her arms and run under TJ’s bed. Amber resisted the impulse to flinch at the noise. She was the older sibling after all; it was her job to be the rock of the family.

> **_At most we’re allowed a few months_ **
> 
> **_of simply listening to the simple_ **
> 
> **_line of a woman singing a child_ **
> 
> **_against her heart. Everything else is too soon,_ **
> 
> **_too sudden, the wrenching-apart, that woman’s heartbeat_ **
> 
> **_heard ever after from a distance_ **
> 
> **_the loss of that ground-note echoing_ **
> 
> **_whenever we are happy, or in despair._**  

“Do you need to shower or did you do it last night?” Amber asked. “Because I’d like to hop in the shower.”

TJ pointed to his hair, which seemed to be composed of nothing but cowlicks. “This is the hair of someone who slept with his hair wet like a dumbass.”

“See? I was right. Macaroni is the second smartest in this house,” Amber said with a giggle. “I’m gonna head out now. Be careful crossing the kitchen. I’m not sure if it’s still a warzone.” 

> **_Everything else seems beyond us,_ **
> 
> **_we aren’t ready for it, nothing that was said_ **
> 
> **_is true for us, caught naked in the argument,_ **
> 
> **_the counterpoint, trying to sightread_ **
> 
> **_what our fingers can’t keep up with, learn by heart_ **
> 
> **_what we can’t even read. And yet_ ** 

The slamming seemed to be her father slamming the front door and leaving, considering that the argument had transformed into only one voice, shrieking profanities over the phone. Amber turned on the water, its rhythmic patter against the porcelain of the bathtub helping to drown out the sounds of her house.

Her mother would leave for work soon enough; she headed into work earlier than normal nowadays to make extra money for working overtime. Amber was surprised the company was so quick to approve this extra work and pay. Maybe her boss took pity on her.

> **_it is this we were born to. We aren’t virtuosi_ **
> 
> **_or child prodigies, there are no prodigies_ **
> 
> **_in this realm, only a half-blind, stubborn_ **
> 
> **_cleaving to the timbre, the tones of what we are,_ **
> 
> **_even when all the texts describe it differently._**

Amber’s father theorized that her mother’s boss was a lesbian who was infatuated with the soft and slightly-worn beauty that was Elizabeth Kippen (although, his ways of stating it were much… less friendly. “Come _on_ , Elizabeth, can’t you see she’s a dyke who’s hoping by giving you what you want you’ll fuck her?” he yelled at her mother one day). She always flinched at that word and the venom on her father’s tongue as he spat it out. _Dyke._ It was a harsh word, an _ugly_ word.

She stepped out of the shower, trying to brush and blow-dry her hair in the steamed up mirror. Perhaps she would wait until after the steam cleared out. When she walked in her room, she turned her attention to her phone sitting on the charger. Unplugging it as she picked it up, she noticed a notification from Andi.

**Andi:** good morning!!

**Andi:** how’s the kippen household today??

She smiled as she read the messages. It was nice to know that Andi cared for her. Amber was unaccustomed to having someone who was as concerned with her emotions as Andi Mack. She basked in it, really. To her, Andi was a warm summer ray. 

> **_And we’re not performers, like Liszt, competing_ **
> 
> **_against the world for speed and brilliance_ **
> 
> **_(the 79-year-old pianist said, when I asked her_ **
> 
> _**What makes a virtuoso?** _ **_—Competitiveness.)_**  

Amber reread the messages once more, trying to figure out a proper response. Andi knew about the issues within her family. She had known for awhile about her family’s financial struggles, her father’s inability to hold down a job, how deeply wrapped up in their own problems her parents were. However, Amber tended to leave out how routine the morning arguments were, how Amber and TJ were never sure which time their dad stormed out was going to be the final one. No one needed to be pressured with all of her problems. Yet, she didn’t quite know how to lie to her.

> **_The longer I live, the more I mistrust_ **
> 
> **_theatricality, the false glamour cast_ **
> 
> **_by performance, the more I know its poverty beside_ **
> 
> **_the truths we are salvaging from_ **
> 
> **_the splitting-open of our lives_ ** 

Perhaps she could tell a half-truth. Lying to Andi made her immensely guilty. It wasn’t necessary for Amber to spill out every single truth at once to her best friend. She stared at the blinking caret, drafting a potential response in her head.

**Amber:** sorry i was in the shower

**Amber:** rough morning so far

Amber checked the weather while she waited for a response, trying to see what clothes were acceptable. Perfectly temperate, though the day carried a small potential for rain. She would dress accordingly. As she finished checking the weather, Andi sent a response.

**Andi:** that sucks :(

**Andi:** whats going on?

> **_The woman who sits watching, listening_ **
> 
> **_eyes moving in the darkness_ **
> 
> **_is releasing in her body, hearing-our in her blood_ **
> 
> **_a score touched off in her perhaps_ **
> 
> **_by some words, a few chords, from the stage,_ **
> 
> **_a tale only she can tell._**

Typically, Amber was used to her struggles being brushed off. She would just say it was a rough morning and nothing more would come of it. Andi didn’t do that; she could never just let something go. Amber was never sure if anything stemmed from being genuinely concerned or annoyingly inquisitive. Andi seemed to care about her in _some_ way. She asked. It was Amber’s responsibility to tell.

**Amber:** just another morning of being woken up by the kippen parents’ speciality

**Andi:** that sucks

**Andi:** hey amber?

**Amber:** yeah?

**Andi:** i love you

Her heart fluttered as she read the message. There it was: the warmth spreading across her skin. Andi always had this ability— to serve as this source of warmth and light. Amber wore a smile as she reread it.

**Amber:** i love you too <3

> **_But there come times— perhaps this is one of them_ **
> 
> **_when we have to take ourselves more seriously or die;_**

She got dressed and headed out to reenter the bathroom to dry her hair. TJ was occupying the mirror space, the door wide open, gelling his hair. Amber drummed her nails on the doorframe, causing him to look over.

“What’s got you all smiley?” TJ asked, fingers still laced in his hair. “Not the exact sight I was expecting to see today, especially after the morning we’ve had.”

“Nothing in particular,” Amber shrugged. “By the way, I’d chill out on the hair gel. You look better with your hair less… crispy.”

“Shut up,” TJ rolled his eyes, continuing to slick back his hair.

“I bet you Cyrus agrees with me,” Amber spoke with a smirk smugly spread across her face, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed.

TJ removed his hands from his hair as soon as she spoke. “Why would you bring Cyrus up?” he asked, as if the answer weren’t obvious. It was Amber’s turn to roll her eyes.

“You know _exactly_ why I brought Cyrus up,” she responded. “Your crush on him isn’t subtle, TJ. You always wear a goofy smile when you talk to him. It’s one of the only times I see you smile like that.”

> **_when we have to pull back from the incantations,_ **
> 
> **_rhythms we’ve moved to thoughtlessly,_ **
> 
> **_and disenthrall ourselves, bestow_ **
> 
> **_ourselves to silence, or a severe listening, cleansed_ **
> 
> **_of oratory, formulas, choruses, laments, static_ **
> 
> **_crowning the wires. We cut the wires,_ **
> 
> **_find ourselves in free-fall, as if_ **
> 
> **_our true home were the undimensional solitudes, the rift_ **
> 
> **_in the Great Nebula._**  

She turned on the hairdryer, listening to its whirring as she dried her long, blonde waves. TJ tried to brush his teeth around her, despite the fact that she was definitely occupying the entirety of the mirror space. It was a routine that they had gotten robotically used to. TJ was ten months younger and two grades behind her. Being so close in age and school, their entire lives were spent getting ready together.

Amber continued her routine, going through the motions of daily life. Her mom had left for work, leaving the house in a calmer state of silence. She went back into her room to start working on her makeup, picking up her phone to text Andi once more. She wanted to offer Andi a ride to school; she wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. Her parents didn’t like her to give others rides to others who weren’t TJ.

> **_No one who survives to speak_ **
> 
> **_new language, has avoided this:_ **
> 
> **_the cutting-away of an old force that held her_ **
> 
> **_rooted to an old ground_ **
> 
> **_the pitch of utter loneliness_ **
> 
> **_where she herself and creation_ **
> 
> **_seem equally dispersed, weightless, her being a cry_ **
> 
> **_to which no echo comes or can ever come_**

Her parents wouldn’t know. TJ wouldn’t snitch or care. She texted Andi.

**Amber:** do you want me to take you to school?

**Andi:** oh, sure! thanks!!! <333

Amber smiled again. She wasn’t sure which made her feel better: the message back from Andi or the fact that she was doing something her parents specifically didn’t want her to do. She applied her light pink lipgloss and slipped it into her purse for when she eventually would have to reapply.

**Amber:** get ready soon. we’re stopping for coffee before school

**Andi:** kk!!

> **_But in fact we were always like this,_ **
> 
> **_rootless, dismembered: knowing it_ **
> 
> **_makes the difference._**

“TJ, I’m taking Andi to school with us! If you say a word to mom or dad about it, I can and will kill you,” Amber yelled, hoping TJ would hear her wherever he was in the house. He came out, fully dressed and ready. He grabbed his bookbag off of the couch and slung it over his shoulder.

“Why the hell would I say anything to mom and dad?” TJ asked, a brow cocked. “You act like I talk to them or something,” he spoke with humor in his voice. “Can I tell Andi you have a huge crush on her?”

Amber’s heart sank into her stomach. “What do you mean?”

> **_Only: that is unnatural,_ **
> 
> **_the homesickness for a woman, for ourselves,_**

TJ nudged her gently, as if he hadn’t just betrayed her trust with his words. “Come on, Amber. I’ve known you my whole life. There isn’t much you can hide from me. You know I’m gay. You practically _pushed_ me to say it.”

“That doesn’t mean _you_ need to push _me_ to say it, TJ,” Amber’s voice carried the obvious tone of distress. “Not everyone caves as easily as you do. Regardless of whether or not I like girls, it doesn’t mean that my feelings for Andi are anything other than platonic.”

Her phone went off, a text from Andi. Amber couldn’t fight off a grin when she saw her name appear on the screen. Maybe TJ had a point. Maybe she did have a crush on Andi.

**Andi:** im ready!! just text me when ur on ur way <333

> **_for that acute joy at the shadow her head and arms_ **
> 
> **_cast on a wall, her heavy or slender_ **
> 
> **_thighs on which we lay, flesh against flesh_**

“You get a big, goofy smile on your face whenever you talk to her,” TJ said. “I don’t see you smile like that very often. I… wasn’t trying to pry or anything. I thought you knew I knew that you were a lesbian.”

Hearing him say the word made the whole situation feel so much more real. “What would make you think I thought anyone knew?”

“You let me take books from your bookshelf when I’m looking for something to read. Except, you’re the kind of heathen who writes in them. I thought if you were trying to keep it a secret, you would hide your lesbian poetry collection that you’ve marked almost beyond legibility.”

> **_eyes steady on the face of love; smell of her milk, her sweat_ **
> 
> **_terror of her disappearance, all fused in this hunger_ **
> 
> **_for the element they have called most dangerous, to be_ **
> 
> **_lifted breathtaken on her breast, to rock_ **
> 
> **_within her— even if beaten back,_ **
> 
> **_stranded again, to apprehend_ **
> 
> **_in a sudden brine— clear though_ **
> 
> **_trembling like the tiny, orbed, endangered_ **
> 
> **_egg-sac of a new world:_**

“I don’t have a _collection_ of lesbian poetry,” Amber protested.

“And _what_ book are you carrying in your bag right now?” TJ asked, causing Amber to shuffle through her book bag to pull out the copy of her current read.

“ _Dream of a Common Language_ by Adrienne Rich,” she answered, earning an expression that practically screamed _I told you so_. “Oh, shut up and let’s go.”

She made sure to text Andi that she was on her way, and received a string of heart emojis as a response.

Seeing the rising sun light Andi’s pretty face as she walked from her house to Amber’s car (only after she kicked TJ out of the front seat) was ethereal. Andi herself was angelic, with her short black hair that always permitted a strand or two to frame her face.

> **_This is what she was to me, and this_ **
> 
> **_is how I can love myself_ **
> 
> **_as only a woman can love me._**

“Hey, Amber,” Andi smiled sweetly. The book of poems was left on the passenger seat (TJ had been flipping through her notes in the book, and commenting on starred poems and highlighted passages). “I didn’t know you liked poetry,” she said, flipping through the book.

“I do,” Amber was clutching the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles were becoming ghost-white. She dreaded Andi decoding her, finding out her blooming crush.

“Adrienne Rich’s _Dream of a Common Language_ ,” Andi flipped to the dog-eared page. “ _Transcendental Etudes_. You know, I think I’ve heard of her!”

Amber’s eyes widened. “Have you now?” _Do I just tell her now? Has she already figured it out? Maybe it’s best that she knows anyway._

“Yeah, I think we read a work of hers in English class. I think it was in the unit on gender and sexuality. She’s a feminist author, right?”

“She is,” she knew this was coming. “I have a whole bunch of poems by, uh, _feminist_ authors in the bookshelf in my room. It’s a nice genre.”

“You know, I’ve been in your room before but I’ve never taken the opportunity to look at your bookshelf. I thought you’d be the kind to store trinkets and pretty things there. You didn’t give off the vibes that you were a poetry person,” Andi spoke with the cutest smile on her face.

“Maybe I’ll show you next time you come over my house,” Amber commented, pulling into the drive thru to order the coffees. “What do you take?”

“Mocha, iced. Please,” Andi responded. “I only drink iced coffee,” there was a brief pause. “Hey! Maybe I could come over later today after school? Your house tends to behave more when there’s company anyway.”

“Hey! Don’t blame the whole house!” TJ commented from the back as Amber placed the order. “Just because our parents are crazy doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t control our temper.”

“I would love for you to come over, Andi,” Amber said. “But don’t be weirded out by the notes and poetry I’ve collected.

> **_Homesick, for myself, for her— as later, the heatwave_ **
> 
> **_breaks, the clear tones of the world_ **
> 
> **_manifest: cloud, bough, wall, insect, the very soul of light,_**

“Why would I be weirded out? Unless you have some weird erotic poetry collected, I don’t think I’d be thrown off by feminist poetry,” Andi laughed as she spoke.

> **_homesick as the fluted vault of desire_ **
> 
> **_articulates itself: I am the lover and the loved,_ **
> 
> **_home and wanderer, she who splits_ **
> 
> **_firewood and she who knocks, a stranger_ **
> 
> **_in the storm, two women eye to eye_ **
> 
> **_measuring each other’s spirits each other’s_ **
> 
> **_limitless desire,_**

“It’s not _just_ feminist poetry,” Amber winced. “It’s lesbian poetry. Adrienne Rich is a feminist, lesbian author and I collect feminist, lesbian poetry because I’m a huge dyke, okay?”

The words came out faster and faster, spewing out uncontrollably. She had called herself _that_ word. The word her father used against her mother’s boss. A word with so much hatred attached to it. Yet, it felt right.

“Oh,” Andi’s mouth stood slightly agape. She looked at the poetry book in her hands. “In that case, can I borrow this book? I’ll give it back unharmed. I swear.”

Amber nodded.

 

> **_a whole new poetry beginning here._ **


	2. "Hope" is the thing with feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andi is enamored with the notes that Amber scribbles into her book. She wants to know everything about her and the things she keeps in her bookcase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poem used: "Hope" is the thing with feathers —Emily Dickinson
> 
> Also I forgot to mention, everyone here is in high school.

> **_“Hope” is the thing with feathers—_ **
> 
> **_that perches in the soul_ **

Andi had been unable to erase the events of the drive to school from her mind. She had been friends with Amber for quite some time, and had many a passionate conversation with her about pretty girls with bright eyes and hair composed of summery curls. They would lie in one of their beds, curled up with each other, Amber’s manicured fingers running through the short trail of Andi’s soft, black hair. It was the most comfortable either of them ever were.

Granted, Andi had already given considerable thought to whatever Amber’s sexuality may be. Given certain factors Andi knew about her, such as her absolute love of Hayley Kiyoko and the suggestion to watch  _ But I’m a Cheerleader  _ together on one of their sleepover movie nights, the thought that Amber was a lesbian had definitely crossed her mind several times before. Though, Andi always shot it down by pulling up all of Amber’s former boyfriends from her memory. She had dismissed it as wishful thinking, a fleeting hope.

Andi had known for years she liked girls and, while she never really found the idea of officially “coming out” appealing, she strived to make it casually known. She just didn’t like to be the person to have to stand up and make a big announcement like that. Sure, she had flair for the dramatic, but it wasn’t the particular form of drama she wanted to involve herself in. Both Bex and Bowie would bring up fondly past girlfriends and boyfriends that they had had (and a few that they had unknowingly shared), so Andi didn’t find any good reason to be any less casual about her identity than they were.

However, this came with the side effect that people might  _ not  _ know that she liked girls. The more Andi maneuvered her school years and contemplated her identity, she began to question whether she liked boys at all. Sure, of course, she had dated them, but never for very long without losing interest. Pursuing the boy was fun until he became tangible, and then Andi grew uncomfortable. She held the Amber’s poetry book in her hands. It was well-loved, the pages and spine showing signs of being flipped through many times. It hit her once more. Amber was a lesbian. Just like her.

> **_And sings the tune without the words—_ **
> 
> **_And never stops— at all—_ **

Did she ever think Amber was straight? Only when she thought that her evidence was wishful thinking. She’d been crushing on her for some time, though not hard and fast like many of her crushes tended to be. Her crush on Amber was warm and slow and simultaneously painless or painful. It didn’t make sense, yet the hints of Amber’s perfume that lingered whenever she would lend Andi a scarf or a jacket caused her heart to race. For the most part, she assumed that Amber just didn’t talk about her sexuality or what labels she applied to herself. For the most part, she was correct in her assumptions.

“Earth to Andi,” she was taken out of her trance by Buffy’s hand waving in front of her face. She blinked a few times before looking at her best friend. “We’ve been talking to you for a few minutes now.”

“Oh, sorry,” Andi laughed awkwardly. “I guess I’ve been a little preoccupied today. It’s just been a weird today is all. Not a big deal or anything! Don’t worry about it! I’m  _ fine!” _

“It’s been a weird day?” Cyrus piped in. “It’s only homeroom. The technical school day hasn’t really  _ started  _ yet. Besides, judging from your raise in both the pitch and volume of your voice, I’m inclined to not believe you telling us it isn’t a big deal. Does it have something to do with that book you keep staring at?”

“It’s been a weird  _ morning,”  _ Andi added, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “Satisfied? Amber gave me a ride to school and it was… strange, is all.”

“That explains where the iced coffee came from. Do go on,” Buffy smiled and motioned her to continue. “Did she ditch TJ for you? It’d be  _ so  _ funny to watch him have to take the bus for once in his life.”

“It wouldn’t be that funny…” Cyrus mumbled. “Is that where the book came from?” he asked, stretching a bit to try to read the cover of the book, which Andi quickly concealed with her hand. “What book are you so heavily invested in anyway?”

“It’s a book,” Andi didn’t mean for her voice to sound as defensive as it obviously did. “And, no, she didn’t ditch TJ. He just rode in the back. We were talking, is all. And she lent me a book. The whole thing was just… unexpected.”

“She gave you a book?” Cyrus responded in surprise.

“She can  _ read?”  _ was Buffy’s response.

“Of course she can  _ read,  _ Buffy,” Andi sulked a bit., admiring the worn pages of the book. “She has an entire bookshelf in her room. The funny thing is, I’ve been her friend for quite some time now, and I never even knew that she was such a huge fan of books and poetry. She writes in them too, you can tell because she dots her i’s with little hearts.”

“So she’s a monster is what I’m hearing,” Cyrus commented. “A monster who writes in books and a monster who you’re  _ totally  _ in love with. I  _ watched  _ you face soften as you continued to talk about her. It’s cute.”

“How do you think Jonah would feel about two of his ex-girlfriends dating?” Buffy pondered, giggling. “I mean, judging from the  _ everything  _ about that lovable little ditz, there’s a high chance he has  _ no  _ clue that either of you guys are gay.”

“Gay? Who said anything about Amber being gay?” Andi couldn’t contain her nervous laughter. She didn’t say anything that gave it away, did she? Mentally tracing the conversation in her head, she couldn’t recall saying anything about Amber’s lesbianism. “I certainly didn’t say anything about Amber being gay!”

“It’s… not exactly a secret. At least, I didn’t think it was,” Cyrus furrowed his thick brows. “I mean, if it is, it’s very much a  _ in the closet with the door wide open _ type situation.”

“Like you were until, like, two months ago?”

_ “Exactly.” _

> **_And sweetest— in the Gale is head—_ **
> 
> **_And sore must be the storm_ **

“Well, even if she  _ were _ gay—”

“Which she is,” Cyrus and Buffy spoke in unison interrupting her.

“—anyway, that doesn’t mean we would date,” Andi scoffed, trying to ignore the warmth growing in her cheeks. “It’s not like she’d be into me, or anything. We’re friends. I don’t see why I should interpret our interactions as anything other than gals being pals.”

“Oh,  _ please,  _ Andi Mack,” Buffy groaned. “Tell me that you didn’t just gal pal  _ yourself.  _ That’s abhorrent. I’ve hung out with the two of you and didn’t think that  _ I  _ would be the third wheel between you and anyone. Like, even when you were dating Jonah, he was the third wheel, not me!”

“What even makes you think Amber is gay?” Andi asked, not wanting to betray Amber’s trust in her. She wasn’t sure if Amber was necessarily  _ closeted _ , much like she wasn’t closeted. Perhaps she just didn’t enjoy the whole notion behind coming out.

“She lent you a book by Adrienne Rich, for starters,” Cyrus said, pointing to the book that was now sitting on top of Andi’s desk.

“Did literally  _ everyone  _ know Adrienne Rich was a lesbian except for me?” Andi buried her head in her folded arms on her desk. “I told Amber I thought she was a feminist poet in the car this morning.”

“Andi… Andi, she wrote  _ Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence,”  _ Buffy responded with a sigh. “How did you not know that she was a lesbian author?”

“I don’t pay attention to things, obviously,” she spoke, not lifting her head to showcase her shame to the world. “I just thought she was a feminist.”

“Bet you thought Amber was  _ just a feminist _ too,” Buffy chuckled. The joke earned a laugh from Cyrus, who then placed a hand on Andi’s shoulder.

“If us teasing you is genuinely upsetting you, we’ll stop,” he said, trying to express the fact that, despite the tortures they were currently putting her through, the two loved her dearly. Andi picked her head up and smiled, her cheeks flushed.

“You’re fine,” she told him. “I just feel so  _ stupid  _ for not knowing these things! Like, am I a bad gay? I feel like a bad gay. A little, baby, dumbass lesbian.”

“And where would the LGBT community be without you?” Cyrus asked, pinching her cheek. “Wait. Lesbian? I thought you were pan.”

“New discovery?” Andi shrugged. “Jonah Beck, the dream boy for girls suffering through compulsory heterosexuality.”

The rest of the school day was consumed by Andi struggling to pay attention in classes when she wanted to read. She felt like she did when she was a kid in elementary school, and Bex had given her her Harry Potter books to start reading (back when Andi still believed that Bex was her cool, older sister) and she would sit impatiently until they had silent reading time. Back then, she had gotten reprimanded several times for reading during class, despite her best attempts to do it sneakily. Only, instead of details about magical adventures, Andi was itching to explore more of Amber’s book. She enjoyed reading her scribbled notes in the margins almost as much, if not a little more, than the poetry itself. Amber’s introspective notes were a kind of poetry all by itself.

She skipped going to the cafeteria at lunch, instead heading to a quiet corner of the library and reading. She studied Amber’s thoughts on the page.  _ What is power here? Fame, independence for women?  _ A few lines later, she wrote and underlined.  _ Autonomy  _ as if she had found the answer to the question she had asked. Andi looked at the gentle cursive of Amber’s penmanship, the way her letters looped together. It wasn’t exact cursive. It was a dance between print and cursive, where print was the intention but cursive flowed from her naturally. The lunch bell rang and she begrudgingly had to continue the routine of her day. There were only three classes left, so it gave her some kind of hope.

Her last class of the day was the one class she shared with Amber. It was an elective course— creative writing— so freshmen and juniors could coexist within the same classroom. It was nice for her to have a friend to be able to sit next to in class. When she had signed up for it she was initially worried that she would be stuck in a class full of upperclassmen that she didn’t know. Instead, there was Amber with a pretty smile, with an empty seat next to her.

Andi was one of the first students to arrive to the classroom today, heading to her normal seat, waiting for Amber to arrive. In the few minutes of transition between classes, she continued reading.

“Glad to know you like the book, Bambi,” Amber smiled. She was already sitting in her seat, her pastel pink notebook resting on her desk. “You didn’t even notice me sit next to you.”

“It’s enthralling,” she responded, closing the work and facing her. “I  _ really  _ like it. I think your notes and commentary is interesting too. It’s really smart—  _ you’re  _ really smart. It adds, like, a whole new layer to things.”

Amber let out a quiet laugh and tucked a piece of her blonde hair behind her ears. “I didn’t realize you were reading my notes. You should consider yourself lucky. Those notes are practically my diary. Be lucky I like you so much.”

> **_That could abash the little Bird_ **
> 
> **_That kept so many warm—_ **

Andi tried her hardest to squash the little bit in her that wanted to interpret Amber’s words as anything other than friendship. Of course Amber liked her; they were friends. Andi was the only person Andi had, besides TJ, who genuinely cared for her (and Andi wasn’t sure how helpful TJ was with deep emotional truths. Maybe he was deeper than she gave him credit for, but she still was unsure.)

“Since we’re already here, do you want me to just drive us both to my house after this class is over?”

“Sure!” Andi responded as the teacher began speaking, signalling for the rest of the students to stop whatever it was that they were talking about. 

She simply told the students to start preparing for National Novel Writing Month in November, handing out a large packet to fill in with plot and character details. Despite it barely being October (the leaves on the trees had only just started to change hue), she reminded them that there was no time to waste. After all, putting everything off until November would lead to half of the month being spent planning instead of writing.

The class itself, containing only a dozen students, permitted conversation and creative input. Ms. Salamanca (or, as her students affectionately called her, Sal) encouraged the students to talk to each other and critique each other. This did, however, lead to a consistently chaotic vibe in the classroom. Amber was mindlessly flipping through the packet, an upset expression registering clearly on her face.

“I don’t want to write a novel,” she complained to Andi, who was still stuck thinking about what she could possibly write a novel about, tapping her pencil contemplatively on her desk. “Not to say I don’t appreciate the artwork of the novel, it’s just not my thing to write, you know?”

“You prefer to write poetry,” Andi said. “If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure we’re stuck writing poetry for at  _ least  _ the entire marking period after this. I think she just wants to establish a basis in fiction and prose writing or something.”

“I know what she’s trying to do,” Amber groaned. “I just wish we wouldn’t  _ have  _ to do all of this. I’d rather write poetry or even some kind of philosophical essay. God, listen to me. I sound annoyingly pretentious, don’t I?”

“I’m starting to expect you to try to convince me to go vegan,” Andi said with a laugh. “Do you have any idea what your novel is going to be about? I’m absolutely stumped, to be honest.”

“No clue,” Amber sighed. “I think I’ll just write something simple and gay. There are too many heterosexuals in literature.”

Andi laughed, before looking at her. “So, have you always kind of  _ known  _ that you were gay and didn’t really bother hiding it? Or is it a secret or a recent discovery?”

“I guess this is the conversation we’re having in creative writing today,” Amber said, still writing down ideas. “I mean, I wasn’t really  _ open  _ about it but I guess it wasn’t something I was really trying to conceal. I wasn’t trying to, like, act straight or anything if that’s what you’re asking.  _ Why  _ are you asking anyway?”

“Buffy and Cyrus think you’re a lesbian,” Andi wasn’t sure why she was saying what she was saying but she sure was saying it. “Not in, like, a bad way! Cyrus is gay so it’s not like he was judging you or anything! I just… didn’t know how to respond.”

Amber responded by laughing, causing a sigh of relief from Andi. Part of her was expecting the other girl to be much angrier. “Well, at least some people pick up on signs and hints. Though Cyrus can’t seem to pick up on when people are obviously smitten with him. It’s fine if they know I’m a lesbian, I guess. It’s kind of a new term I’m adjusting to. I mean, I kind of figured out that I didn’t like men, but I only  _ very  _ recently started using the label to describe myself.”

“When?”

“Today,” Amber responded, an awkward smile spread across her face. “Like I said, very recently. I wasn’t even the first one to call myself that. TJ did, when he was calling me out for—” she paused. “—for my poetry collection.”

“Wow. That is  _ very  _ recent,” Andi chuckled. She checked the clock. There were still fifteen minutes left of school. For some reason, the last few minutes of a class seemed to last as long as the rest of the class. Creative writing usually went by quickly, but Andi was unable to focus on her task. Only Amber existed in her mind right now. A beautiful curse to have, truly.

When the bell rang, Andi was the first to stand up (perhaps a bit too enthusiastically). Amber, when she stood up, wrapped an arm around her, and Amber caught a trace of the shampoo that she used. Coconut. It nicely complimented the sweet and almost fruity perfume she wore. Everything about Amber seemed otherworldly. Sometimes, Andi swore everything slowed when she made an entrance or laughed and, at that moment, she was the focus of the universe.

“Alright, Big Mack, ready to head out?”

“I told you not to call me that!”

Amber responded with a childishly overdramatic pout. “Mean,” she said as she reached into her purse. She pulled out a light pink lipgloss and swiped it onto her lips carefully. “I’m supposed to be the mean one here, remember?”

“But, yes, I’m ready to head out,” Andi said.

> **_I’ve heard it in the chillest land—_ **
> 
> **_And on the strangest Sea—_ **

When Andi and the Kippen siblings arrived at the house, they were alone (causing a strange sigh of relief from both of the siblings). They were greeted at the door by Macaroni, who sniffed at Andi curiously before recognizing her, and rubbing her face against her leg.

“Silly cat,” Amber chuckled before scooping her up and cradling her in her arms like a baby, cooing to her. “Hey, TJ?”

“No, Amber,” he said plainly. “You cannot throw the cat at me. Last time you did, I got a nasty scratch on my eye.”

The memory apparently caused Amber to break out into a fit of giggles. “You’re no fun. This is why I like Macaroni better than you.”

“Okay. I’m going in my room if you want me,” TJ said, waving. “Do me a favor and, uh, don’t want me.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d want you in the first place,” Amber responded, setting the cat down. “Poor Macaroni baby, can’t even play with my mean, boring brother,” she cooed before turning to Andi. “My room?” Andi nodded. “Cool, let me just grab some snacks!”

As Amber headed to the kitchen, Andi lingered in the living room and observed the details of the house. It was a strange place, definitely, though Andi couldn’t quite place her finger on  _ why _ . Her eyes were drawn to one of the walls, which had a small hole or dent in it. It wasn’t comparable to the hole in the wall that Bowie had created in their apartment at one point, but it certainly wasn’t… normal to have. She wandered over to it, tracing it with her fingers. It was a little larger than her fist.

“I don’t know if you were feeling healthy or not, so I’ve grabbed a fruit salad and also some chips so we can make our decisions when we get there,” Amber spoke with a smile, a bowl and forks balancing in one hand/arm and a bag of chips in the other. 

Her face fell when she saw what Andi was preoccupied with going. “Dad, um, punched a wall. Him and my mom were in an argument. We haven’t really gotten it fixed yet— it’s not at the top of our financial priorities at the moment, you know?” she gave a weak laugh. “Anyway, let’s just head to my room.”

“Yeah,” was all Andi could think of for a response. “Do you need help carrying something? I’ve got two free hands,” she emphasized how free her hands were by comedically waving her arms about.

“I’ve got it. I might just need you to open my door for me,” Amber told her, walking towards her bedroom.

Andi opened the door for her, and Amber set the bowl of fruit salad and the two forks onto her nightstand before plopping on her bed with the bag of chips. She tapped her bed to motion Andi to join her, causing the younger girl to  collapse onto the bed next to, and partially on top of, her. Her back was lying across Amber’s stomach, and she outstretched her arms so one of her hands was draped across Amber’s face. This caused the other to retaliate by using her free arms to tickle Andi, which led to her to go into a fit of laughter that almost knocked her off the bed.

“No fair!”

“Don’t lie on top of me then,” Amber smirked. “Did you forget that I was the older sibling? I know how to get my way.”

“Fair enough,” Andi sulked. She sat up on the bed, looking around at Amber’s room. And, surely enough, there it was, surrounding her window seat, which was fashioned into a cute little reading nook. The shelves were packed, most of them with books, but a few decorated with a plant and a few little knick-knacks. “You know, I’ve never studied your room in depth. This whole time, I just thought that was a window with a window seat. I never really noticed how many books you had.”

Amber got up from the bed to drape herself across of her window seat. “It’s my pride and joy. I put a lot of thought into this room of mine,” she smiled, before adjusting herself to sit (though not exactly normally. For some reason, she didn’t allow both of her feet to touch the ground). “Come and join me here? You can get a better look.”

Andi focused on how pretty the sunbeams made Amber look. With the softness of the light shining through her rose-gold and orange curtains, the light made her look  _ amber _ . She could only imagine how pretty Amber looked here in the sunset.

She sat next to Amber, and was able to fully look at the stock of her shelf. “Underneath the seat are drawers,” Amber said while she pointed to a pastel pink record player she had on one of the lower shelves. “I keep some overflow books there, as well as whatever vinyls I have. I’ve got a few really nice ones that I like, but my collection is nowhere  _ near  _ TJ’s. But feel free to look at anything you’d like.”

Andi’s eyes were occupied scanning the titles. There were poetry books, of course, but also essay collections and collections of short stories and plays and novels and more books than Andi thought she had ever read. She was drawn to a pastel pink bound book with no title marking on it, pulling it out. It was one of only four books on the shelf, the rest of it covered in a lovely, floral-theme bookend and a few other pretty things. The front read, written in gold sharpie,  _ AE _ . Just as Andi was about to open it, Amber protested.

“Not that one! It’s… special. More special than these other books,” her breath was staggered, and panic registered clearly in her green eyes. Andi handed the book back over to her, and Amber put it back on the shelf. “Any of the other books here or in the drawers. Just not this shelf. Please.”

“It’s no problem,” Andi said, feeling guilty for what she had done. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

“It’s fine, Bambi,” Amber said. “I’ll show you what’s here eventually. I’m just not ready for that yet. Thank you for understanding,” she smiled sweetly, and placed her hand gently on top of Andi’s. Andi laced her fingers with Amber’s and laid her head upon her shoulder. Amber used her free hand to pull a book from the shelf. Not untangling her hand from Andi’s, she propped open the book and began to read, reciting a few poems of Emily Dickinson’s.

Her voice changed when she read outloud. Though it carried no tune, her poetry recitals carried an immensely special kind of music to it. One that Andi could find herself falling in love with. She decided, at that moment, in the window with the sunbeams streaming through, with her head on Amber’s shoulder and her hand holding hers, that Amber was the most beautiful thing she had seen.

> **_Yet— never— in Extremity,_ **
> 
> **_It asked a crumb— of me._ **


	3. Asking About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andi asks for another book, and Amber gets to see the notes she wrote in the first one. Amber makes some... interesting decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poem Used: Asking About You —Eloise Klein Healy

> **_Instead of having sex all the time I like to hold you and not get into some involved discussion of what life means._ **

Having Andi at the house made things calmer. Her mother didn’t reach for her phone to scream at her father, demanding to know his whereabouts, when he didn’t show for dinner. Her mother didn’t voice her annoyance and her worries about his potential infidelities at the dinner table. Her mother didn’t come into her room after dinner was done and the dishes were clean to come to Amber for therapy.

After she left, Amber dreaded the chaos spreading again. The night was getting later and her dad still hadn’t come home, which was only making her mother angrier. Not even five minutes after she left, her mother grabbed the telephone to call. It made sense to call now, Amber figured. After all, it  _ was  _ getting late and he had been gone all day. She was curious as to where he was as well.

TJ’s door was propped open, mostly for the cat to come in and out as she pleased. However, she had known him well enough to know that this also signalled that it was okay for her to enter as she wished. He was sitting on his bed, a textbook spread open in front of him and a notebook in his lap.

“Hey, T,” Amber said as she walked in and sat on the edge of his bed. “Just letting you know to prepare for yelling. Andi left a few minutes ago and I saw mom dial the phone. Whatcha working on?”

“APUSH notes,” he told her before closing both of the books he had open. “It makes sense for her to be mad. She hasn’t seen him since ass o’clock in the morning and it’s a quarter to ten. Do you think he’s coming home tonight?”

“I don’t see why he wouldn’t,” she replied. Half of it was an effort to dispel TJ’s worries, but it was also an attempt to make herself feel better. “He always comes home. It’s not like he has anywhere else to go.”

“I guess,” TJ bit his lip. “He just doesn’t stay out this late normally. I think it’s putting all of us on edge. I don’t think the argument was bad enough for him to not come home. At least not this time. I could say stuff that’d piss him off a lot worse.”

His sentence ended with a humorous tone. His frown started to shift into a mischievous smile. “Oh?  _ Can  _ you now?” Amber asked, growing the same look on her face. “And what  _ could  _ you say that would upset good ol’ Frank?”

“I could tell him I’m gay, for starters,” TJ shrugged. “I’m not sure who would leave the house though. Would he be so  _ disgraced  _ that his son’s a homo that he would abandon his wife and other child? But, oh, there’s a twist! His  _ other  _ child, his precious daughter! The light of his miserable life! She’s  _ also  _ a homo!”

This caused Amber to laugh. It was a genuine laugh not preoccupied with sounding pretty; one that led to a little snort at the end of it. “God, can you  _ imagine?  _ What do you think he’d do? I mean, I don’t think mom would let him kick us  _ both  _ out. Maybe he’d leave.”

“And more peace for all of us.”

Amber slapped TJ’s arm— not enough to hurt, but enough to convey her point. “Don’t say things like that! Regardless of how true they may be.”

“So you admit it’s true—”

“Regardless of what  _ I  _ think about the situation, I don’t want to say those things. It makes it more likely for it to be real,” she admitted. “I’m gonna… head back to my room. Let you get back to your history homework.”

“Smell you later, loser.”

Amber, back in the comfort of her own room, took out her own homework to work on, putting on her headphones to drown out whatever it was her mom was arguing about. She was in the middle of working through a precalc problem when she received a text from Andi.

**Andi:** hey is it okay if i write my own annotations for the book on sticky notes?

**Amber:** go ahead?? feel free to leave them in there after ur done reading

**Amber:** i want to know what u think of the books

Andi replied with a thumbs up emoji, and Amber went back to working on math. It was scary to know that her friend was reading the annotations she scribbled down in her books. They were thoughts she had.  _ Sure _ , there was nothing deeply personal on the surface, but one could learn a lot about her from her highlighted passages and writings. It gave an inkling into how she interpreted the poems, and what was important to  _ her _ . She might as well have let Andi explore the secrets she kept within her mind. Though, it seemed as if Andi wanted to return the favor. This was perhaps the most confusing form of intimacy she had experienced with someone.

After about 80% of the math problems she had to do were completed, she received another text from Andi. Pretty girls always took precedence over the unit circle. She was pretty okay with math, so it wasn’t like the remaining problems were going to give her much of a hassle.

**Andi:** could you bring another book with you tomorrow? im almost finished with this one

**Amber:** of course <3333

That was quick. It also meant she was going to get to read Andi’s thoughts on the poems that she had given her. The fact that Andi wanted to read more from her, instead of shoving her away, created butterflies in her stomach. She looked at the hearts in the text she sent, becoming a little concerned at whether or not her displays of affection would make Andi uncomfortable. Such actions between straight girls were acceptable, but when a gay girl was thrown into the mix, the dynamic changes. The lesbian has to withdraw her affections. She has to create boundaries and isolate herself from casual female affection, out of fear of being perceived as predatory.

And yet, Andi was so comfortable. She didn’t turn away from Amber or remove her hand when she held it. She didn’t spit upon the poetry that detailed the highs and lows of loving other women. She wanted more of it. Maybe Andi was different.

> **_I want you to tell me something I don’t know about you._ **

Amber knew her dad came home last night from the sounds of conflict in the early morning. There were two voices in the kitchen again, though she wasn’t exactly sure when he returned. It had to have been sometime after midnight, when she had fallen asleep.

She spent much of the early morning before she had to start getting ready searching through her bookshelves for another book to give to Andi. Though her friend didn’t specify that she wanted another book of lesbian poetry, Amber thought it was a safe bet. Perhaps she would branch out a bit once she had shared more things with Andi, but she settled on narrowing her search to lesbian poetry. Was it weird for a straight girl to develop such an interest in what kind of things her lesbian friend read?

After what felt like hours of debating what book to present her with (out of fear that the wrong choice would dispel Andi’s interest in the literature Amber cared about), she decided on one of Eloise Klein Healy’s collections.  _ Passing  _ was a finalist for several award, after all. It had to be worth something. Flipping through the pages, she observed how much she had written in her copy. The topics she wrote about struck a particular chord with her, she supposed.

**Amber:** want me to take you to school again?

She feared that when she spent more time with Andi, especially now that the truth was out, the sooner Andi would catch onto the fact that Amber had feelings for her. Yet, these anxieties still didn’t seem to detract from her efforts to spend as much time with her as possible.

Her parents’ arguing had ceased, most likely because her mother had to get ready quickly for work. When Amber walked into the kitchen to grab something small for breakfast, her dad was sitting at the table, a coffee mug clenched tightly in one hand.

“Morning,” he said, not quite making eye contact with her.

“Good morning, dad,” speaking to her dad always involved walking on eggshells. She didn’t want to say anything that would set him off. “How are you?”

“Pretty shitty, chickpea,” he said. “I haven’t told you or brother yet but I got sacked again. Apparently I wasn’t being careful enough for the painters to consider keeping me around. Said I was slowin’ em down. Decided I wasn’t worth keeping.”

“Oh,” was all Amber could say, pulling a yogurt from the fridge.  She didn’t look at him; she didn’t want to see the tired look on his face. “You’ll find another job, dad. You always do.”

“I’d just like to  _ keep  _ one for more than a couple of months, you know?” he groaned. “Job hunting is the most annoying shit on the planet. It was invented by sadists, I swear. They’ve got all these fucking websites now for job-hunting but they’re all so goddamn stupid, chickie. I don’t want to work some sissy-ass job like the ones they’re offering. I swear, any man who takes up a job as a  _ personal assistant  _ for some fucking hairdresser is a fag if I’ve ever seen one.”

Amber wanted to flinch at the word. She couldn’t help but think about her conversation the night before with TJ. How would her dad react if he found out his children were both gay? He never really spoke  _ positively  _ about any gay people he knew; it made her existence a lot scarier. She grabbed a spoon and decided to eat the yogurt in her room.

While she was talking with her dad, Andi responded, accepting her offer for a ride. She typed out a string of hearts to send, before her own insecurities caught up to her. She deleted the message she had yet to send, replacing the hearts with a thumbs up and setting her phone down to get dressed.

> **_Something about the day before that photograph in which you’re standing on your head. I want to know about softball and the team picture._ **

Like the day before, when she pulled up to Andi’s house, TJ moved into the back seat. Andi came out of her house, wearing a pair of ripped, black jeans and a denim jacket adorned with an assortment of enamel pins over her red shirt.  _ For a straight girl, she rocks such a gay aesthetic. It’s unfair. _

“Hey, Amber!” she smiled as she climbed into the passenger’s seat. She turned to the boy in the back. “Hey, TJ!”

“Morning,” TJ responded, before looking back at his phone.

“I brought your book back,” she said, reaching into her bookbag and pulling out Amber’s copy of  _ Dream of a Common Language,  _ only with a large amount of sticky notes poking through the pages. “I got a little carried away with the annotations, but it’ll be a good reread for you.”

“Thanks. I look forward to reading your thoughts,” she smiled softly. “I brought another book for you, like you asked. I stayed in the same general genre because I wasn’t sure what you wanted. So, it’s another lesbian poet. If that’s okay.”

“It’s fine,” Andi replied. “I was expecting another  _ feminist _ poet,” she teased. “Apparently I’m like the only person on the planet who didn’t know Adrienne Rich was a lesbian. Like, Buffy and Cyrus  _ both  _ knew and looked at me like I was stupid.”

“About Buffy and Cyrus,” Amber bit her lip, going back to her worries about what being out might entail as she pulled into the drive-thru of the coffee shop. “I know they already think I’m a lesbian, but if you  _ do  _ tell them, make sure they keep it a secret. I don’t really know if I want it to be out in the open like that.”

“I didn’t think they were going to tell anyone,” Andi placed a hand gently on Amber’s shoulder. “But, I’ll emphasize that you’re closeted to make sure.”

“Iced mocha?” Andi nodded as Amber placed the order for the three coffees.

“You remembered my coffee order?” she was surprised. It wasn’t like it was a hard thing to remember. Andi didn’t like hot coffee; it wasn’t immensely difficult.

“It’s an iced mocha. It’s not like it’s an incredibly complex special order,” Amber shrugged, driving up to the next window to grab the drinks. She handed TJ his. He took it iced and black, which Amber personally found disgusting. “It’s funny; I don’t think any of us here like hot coffee.”

“It’s gross,” Andi said, taking a sip of her drink. “I still think remembering it is a sweet gesture, even if it takes only a little bit of effort.”

“I don’t think I like that word,” Amber sighed, her mind drifting back towards an earlier conversation. “Closeted. It has a connotation of shame attached to it. I’m not  _ ashamed  _ of who I am, I just don’t want everyone knowing my business just yet.”

Andi didn’t speak, only nodded. There was an awkward silence in the car for a bit as Amber drove. There was only the sound of TJ’s occasional chuckle at something that Amber didn’t see.

“What’s so funny, T?” she asked, curiosity getting the best of her.

“Nothing really,” he answered. “I’m just texting Cyrus. He was telling me a story about what happened to him this morning. So, it all—”

“Don’t spoil it,” Andi commented. “I’m probably going to hear it when I walk into school. I’m not sure if I can handle listening to a Cyrus story twice in the span of half an hour.”

“We don’t have creative writing today, right?” Amber asked, trying to spark some kind of conversation with Andi that didn’t focus heavily on personal stuff. “Having a four-day rotating schedule is so hard to keep track of sometimes.”

“We had it last period yesterday,” Andi reminded her. “Which means there’s no class today. We have it fourth period tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Amber bit her lip as she thought of what to say next. “I hate Day B’s. I don’t get to see you in class. It makes the day go by so much slower.”

If Amber didn’t know any better, she would say that she saw Andi blushing. “I feel the same way. It’s boring when I don’t have class with you.”

Amber spent much of her time at school that day not paying attention to her classes, but reading the notes Andi had left in her book. She had annotated Amber’s annotations; it was cute, how deeply invested she had gotten into everything. Most of the time the comments were related to something written, either by Adrienne Rich or herself, but sometimes they contained small comments of a different nature. Like the one that simply read  _ you dot your i’s with hearts!! that’s so cute!! _

> **_Why are you so little next to the others? Were you younger?_ **

During lunch, Amber sat at a small table alone, drowning out the sounds of the cafeteria. She was still scanning the post-it notes. Andi was intelligent and excitable; Amber could see it in the way she wrote. Her letters almost overlapped one another, despite being written quite neatly. It was as if the thoughts came out quicker than her own hand could write.

There was one note that stuck out to her.  _ I think feeling homesick for a girl’s touch comes from a feeling that’s both familiar and scary. You know how girls feel as a whole, it’s you. But not how the girl you feel for thinks. Are you abnormal? _ The note resonated with her strongly. Were they abnormal? She wondered if Andi it was possible that Andi liked girls. It was a constant debate in her head that usually culminated in a  _ no.  _ She dated Jonah on-and-off a lot (granted, so had Amber).

There were so many things Amber just wanted to  _ know  _ about Andi, but none of them were things she could necessarily ask. Do you like girls? Do you lie awake at night with visions of long eyelashes and heart-shaped faces and glossy lips? Have you become so consumed with thoughts of pretty girls’ smiles and laughter that you’ve rendered yourself useless at times? Have you ever kissed a girl? Do you want to kiss a girl? Do you want to kiss me?

> **_Were you small as a girl?_ **

Andi didn’t join her for a ride home; Amber hadn’t asked. Once again, she and TJ walked into a house devoid of life, save for Macaroni. Her dad was probably out job-hunting, despite his insistence that he hated it.

“Dad lost his job,” Amber told TJ as they walked towards their rooms. “He told me about it this morning. He said he was going to tell you eventually, but I’m not sure how much I’d believe him.”

“Again?” Instead of going to his own room, TJ followed Amber’s into hers, sitting in her window seat.

“Yeah, again,” Amber fell onto her bed, eyes fixed onto her ceiling. “I think I want to redecorate my room. It feels like it’s hardly changed since I was a little girl.”

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”

“Yes,” she sat up and turned sharply at her brothers. “Your room suits you. You’ve redecorated it to look like it belongs to some grimy punk kid. I want to redecorate mine.”

“I did it slowly. I couldn’t sleep on my basketball sheets forever,” TJ told her, fiddling with one of the paper fortune tellers Amber kept on her shelf. “How were you thinking of redecorating it anyway?”

“I don’t know…” she hesitated. “I think I want it to have an elegant, old Gothic feel to it. Maybe I’ll go goth. I look nice in black. I’ll keep the blonde hair though…”

“Oh my god, Amber,” TJ flopped onto the bed next to her. “You’re having an absolute crisis right now, aren’t you? What is it?”

“What makes you think I’m having a crisis?”

“You’re going goth.”

“Maybe I  _ want  _ to go goth? Maybe I’ve wanted to for awhile. You don’t know.”

“What’s wrong with the warm colors you’ve got going on now? Warm florals to elegant blacks is quite the change.”

“I told you,” she groaned. “It’s a little girl’s room. It looks too dainty, too pretty. It’s so… typical. It has no life to it. The only thing that has personality is my bookshelf. Everything else belongs to some stereotypical straight girl and I don’t want it.”

“Ah, there it is,” TJ exclaimed.

“There what is?”

“The real reason you want to change your room. You’re having a crisis and the only solution is to completely redefine who you are,” he responded. “You think I got into punk for the  _ hell  _ of it? I mean, I like it, but I didn’t need to completely rediscover myself until I had already rediscovered myself in a different way.”

“I don’t know what you’re going on about, T,” Amber rolled her eyes, holding one of her pillows covered in a flowery pillowcase. She had had it since childhood. “I just assumed you decided to go all rebellious teen once you were almost thirteen.”

“I discovered I was  _ gay,  _ Amber,” he groaned. “So, I decided I needed to reinvent the aesthetic of my room to be what I wanted. You’re definitely going through the same thing I was.”

“Me finally calling myself a lesbian has  _ nothing  _ to do with wanting to go goth,” she said with a scoff. “Are you saying I shouldn’t do it? Are you suggesting I keep my little girl room forever, TJ?”

“Oh, no. I definitely think you should do it. I just think you should be honest about  _ why  _ you’re doing it. Just let me know if you need to borrow my black nail polish, Elvira.”

Amber watched as TJ walked out of the room. Maybe he was right; maybe she was having some kind of identity crisis. She still  _ totally  _ wanted to redecorate her room though, partially because she knew that Andi loved decorating things and helping others with decorating things. If anything, it was an excuse for them to spend more time together.

**Amber:** I think I’m going goth

Andi’s response was quick, almost immediate. Could she have been waiting on her phone for her to text?

**Andi:** what???? are u dyeing ur hair???

**Amber:** keeping it blonde

**Amber:** TJ says I’m having a crisis but i say hes a bitch

**Andi:** i like ur blonde hair. i cant imagine anything different tbh

**Amber:** anyway im totally revamping my room. wanna help this weekend???

**Andi:** reVAMPing!

Amber couldn’t help but laugh at the stupid pun she had made.

**Andi:** its funny bc ur going goth

**Amber:** i got it. but is that a yes??

**Andi:** OF COURSE. <3333

She looked around at her room, taking in all of its tiny details. The longer she stared and examined, the more discontent she felt in the only haven of her household. Her wall had posters of some stereotypically pretty boy band that every girl her age had fawned over in middle school. It seemed as if they were staring at her, judging her. Knowing that the whole time they were up there, it was just for a facade. So she could make up some straight celebrity crush to hide her feelings for girls. So no one suspected she was staring longingly at the members of her cheerleading team.

The longer she looked at them, the more their faces turned into ones of jeering and mockery. They knew she had been living a lie. They knew her seventh grade daydreams contained thoughts of kissing Iris after she had seen her for the first time, running her fingers through her soft, brown hair. They knew she had kissed her co-captain on a dare and thought about how natural it felt for weeks. They knew about her crush on a rival captain that she tried to suppress with hatred. They knew it  _ all  _ and she couldn’t bear it any longer. She leapt up from her bed and tore the posters violently off the wall before heading back to scream into her pillow.

Then, in the distance, Amber heard a doorbell ring. Someone was at their house. Amber jumped to her feet to go see who was there. And, upon opening the door, there she was: Andi, holding bundles of black lace and paints in her hands.

“I know we have plans this weekend, but there’s nothing wrong with starting early!” she said, carrying the box of supplies into Amber’s room. “I just was doing a routine organization of AndiShack, as I do, and forgot I had this bolt of really nice black lace that would make  _ excellent  _ curtains. A  _ super  _ quick sewing machine job, and they turned out pretty perfect if I do say so myself. The lace was part of a dress I was making for Cece’s fancy 60th birthday dinner but I had tons left over. Don’t tell her I let you know how old she is! I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Amber giggled. “A bit of a warning for when you enter my room— I had a bit of a breakdown so there  _ may  _ be the ugly, tattered remnants of a One Direction poster on the floor and/or still clinging to my wall in pieces.”

Upon entering, Andi set the box down on her bed, before seeing the mess Amber had mentioned. She caressed the wall gently, an overdramatically solemn expression on her face. “What did you do to poor Harry Styles? What did Harry do to deserve this?”

“He was my comp het crush in middle school?” Amber shrugged, an awkward smile on her face. “He knew too much. I can’t have a poster that has seen all of my embarrassing suppressed lesbianism just chilling, judging me.”

Andi simply rolled her eyes and removed the tiny scraps of paper that still clung to the wall. “I don’t think poster-Harry was judging you for middle school crushes on girls. Poster-Niall though, I can’t be too sure about.”

The two girls laughed together, and Amber thought about how hard she had tried to hate Andi initially. She framed it as jealousy over Jonah, but she had always known the truth. Andi was the rival she had definitely developed a crush on. The captain on the other team that always flirted with her while dragging down her team.

“I have plans with Buffy and Cyrus in a bit. Let me know how the curtains look? I’ll be over Saturday and we’re gonna paint something really cool on these white walls. I promise!”

“See you around, Bambi,” Amber said with a smile and a tiny wave. “I’ll text you once I have everything all set up. Thanks for the curtains, by the way! And for stopping by. I like seeing you.”

“I like seeing you too.”

As Andi left the house, she looked over her shoulder, smiled and waved goodbye before she turned around to continue to walk away. Amber’s heart quickened. Surely, it was false hope spreading in her heart, but she could have sworn Andi had looked back at her. Maybe she looked back at her like she had looked back at Jonah? Andi could like her. But that would be stupid. She was the old rival over a boy Amber didn’t care about anymore. She was a friend, and a hopeless crush. Amber didn’t want to wrap herself up in childish fantasies about a lookback.

> **_What I want most is to have been a girl with you and played on the same team so I could have liked you and competed against you at the same time._ **


	4. The Swan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andi and Amber work on redecorating Amber's room. and life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poem used:  
> The Swan by Mary Oliver

> **_Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?_ **

Andi had spent the majority of her week preoccupied with bolts of black lace and assorted paint swatches. Any and all free time she had had solely been dedicating to cooping herself up inside of AndiShack to continue to work on the renovations for Amber’s room. She thought about the conversation they had had when they departed last at her home.  _ I like seeing you,  _ Amber had told her.

Knowing Amber was a lesbian made things more complicated solely because it made things far more tangible. And, because it felt so close and so within the realm of possibility, Andi caught herself doing things to impress her friend far more. Would she have been surrounded by ten variant shades of black paint samples otherwise?

These contemplations were useless, of course. Thought with no foreseeable action did nothing but breed anxiety, yet her mind couldn’t resist the temptation. It wandered to Amber on its own while she was at her sewing machine making a pillowcase. It thought about the shade of gold her previous curtains would cast upon her. The lace would cast shadows in the sunlight, however, and give her the illusion of florals on her peachy skin.

What was Amber’s aura, in all honesty? The warm pastels of her previous room fit an Amber, golden hue included, but did it belong to her? As Andi looked down at the ebony fabric in her hands she doubted whether or not the darker aesthetic would properly suit her either.  Perhaps she was more of a glamorously classic goth, and Andi would make a note to add hints of golden tones to soften the harsh blacks. So many other qualities about her, after all, were already remarkably soft.

> **_Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air—_ **
> 
> **_an armful of white blossoms,_ **

There was a bit of hesitation before texting Amber to ask to see her. Though she knew with certainty the two were fond of one another, reaching out to her first was always nerve-wracking as she dreaded appeared too clingy. They did have plans to see each other, which helped appease the nerves somewhat.

**Andi:** hey! still going goth today?

She made a note,  _ look at golden paint swatches,  _ in her phone as she waited for Amber’s reply. She was impressed by the amount of work she was able to accomplish over the past few days. Amber was lucky to have her.

**Amber:** definitely. when are u stopping by?

**Andi:** I was thinking of heading out p soon if thats ok with you???

**Amber:** works for me <3

Andi tucked her phone into her jacket pocket before gathering the extra things she had scattered about AndiShack. Her stomach swirled with a strange form of anxiety the closer she got to Amber’s doorstep. She shoved down the feeling as she balanced all of the boxes on one side temporarily to knock on the door.

Amber was a vision in black. It was an unusual sight, to see her in a dark monotone head to toe but Andi would be lying if she tried to say she wasn't kind of into it. It was different, but different wasn’t always a bad thing. Her black-painted fingernails drummed nervously on the doorframe as Andi stepped inside

“So,” she asked nervously, turning around to look at her. The dark cotton of her skirt fluttering as she did. Amber always moved with such grace, it wouldn’t have surprised her one bit if she was a dancer. “What do you think?”

“Beautiful,” was the first thing that came out of her mouth. It slipped out involuntarily, her voice sounding much more smitten than she wanted it to. “It’s beautiful! The outfit! You look great! Beautiful too, actually! It’s all… beautiful.”

> **_A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned_ **
> 
> **_into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies_ **
> 
> **_Biting the air with its black beak?_ **

Coyly, Amber tucked a piece of her blonde hair behind her ears, not making eye contact with Andi. “Thank you. I know it’s pretty different from what I do normally.”

“It’s a good different!” Andi reassured her. “I like this different. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have brought so many things over,” she chuckled, motioning over to the boxes she had. “I was thinking, actually, maybe we should add hints of gold in the color scheme? I feel like it’s very classic and pretty. Besides, gold and Amber are practically synonyms.”

Amber rolled her pretty green eyes, but it didn’t hide her laughter at the pun. “You think you’re clever, don’t you, Mack?” a shrug from Andi. “I like the idea of gold accents. It makes me feel so much richer than I actually am. It’s very regal. I can be a gothic queen, draped in black and gold.”

Andi took her hand and bowed dramatically low, kissing the hand she was now holding. “Well, allow me to help achieve this aesthetic goal of yours,  _ your majesty. _ ”

Amber used the hand Andi was holding to pull the two of them closer together, wrapping a hand around Andi’s waist and giggling, her cheeks dusted with the faintest pink. “Do you remember that day by the lake? You were wearing a flower crown and I snuck up on you?”

“I do,” Andi felt her heart pounding in her ears. “That time canoeing with you is one of my favorite memories I have of our friendship.”

“I called you  _ your majesty _ . You and your dandelion crown,” Amber had a soft smile on her face. She tucked a piece of hair behind Andi’s ear, playing with the end of it. Andi felt as if she could melt on the spot. Her crush on Amber was becoming  _ fatal. _

“I remember,” she tried her hardest not to stammer through her words. “You know,  _ your majesty, _ I could always make you a flower crown. Or any crown you want. Any craft really. Just say the word.”

“We could have matching crowns,” she replied excitedly. “Rule over absolutely nothing together.”

“It wouldn’t be absolutely nothing!” Andi pouted. “We could rule over AndiShack. If you woo me convincingly enough, I’ll let you.”

“Has my grace and charm not wooed you enough, Andi?” Amber gasped in mock-offense. “I’m hurt. To think, all of these years of friendship for nothing! The horror!”

She draped herself overdramatically over Andi, who was trying to ignore the swirling feeling in her stomach that any contact with the pretty blonde was giving her. “Am I here to help you decorate your room or am I here to be flirted with?”

“Why can’t I flirt with you  _ while  _ we decorate my room?” Amber playfully laid a kiss upon Andi’s cheek, which made her feel like her knees were going to give out from under her. Did Amber like her or was this flirting just the way two friends playfully interacted? She dreaded misinterpreting the situation and thus potentially ruining her friendship with Amber.

> **_Did you hear it, fluting and whistling_ **

“We should look at gold paints, don’t you think?” Andi asked, clearing her throat from nerves. “And settle on a shade of black. Either way, we should… uh… paints,” her words were clogged with the feeling of Amber playing with her short, dark hair.

“We should… uh… paints, indeed,” Amber winked. “In all honesty, all the shades of black you showed me just look the same. It’s all black.”

“Well, yeah, but different shades have different qualities! Some are more intense, others are more mellow. This one,” she pointed to the one labelled  _ Baby Seal Black _ , “is a little shy. While its friend,  _ Black Tie _ is more elegant and confident.”

“Well, I don’t want a  _ shy  _ room. I’m not a shy person, after all,” Amber smiled. “Tell more more about what these paints say to you. You’re like a color whisperer. I’m invested.”

“Well, this one is noncommittal,” Andi pointed to a brownish shade. “It can’t commit to whether it wants to be a brown or a black. It doesn’t even  _ call  _ itself black.  _ Stone Brown. _ How wishy washy and pretentious.”

“The blood orange of dark neutrals,” Amber responded, laughter interlaced with her voice. Andi had to prevent herself from absolutely melting whenever she heard Amber’s laughter; it was unbearably adorable.

“Precisely. I know you’re an intellectual, with all of your books in your bookshelf, but I’d steer away from pretentious. It isn’t you,” she went back to studying the swatches laid out in front of her.

“So, color whisperer, which one is the best option for me?” Amber asked, drumming her fingers on the table. Andi could hear the gentle tapping sound her well-manicured nails made on the wood.

“In my not-so-professional opinion, I would go with  _ Black Tie.  _ It has a very  _ devil-may-care  _ confidence that matches your aura,” Andi said, showing her the swatch. “It’s rich; almost a sexy color, you know?”

“Is that your way of calling me sexy?” Amber teased, draping herself overdramatically over her chair, her hands laced through her long blonde hair and her lips comedically puckered.

“You exhaust me,” Andi replied with an eyeroll.

“You’re the one who’s still friends with me.”

> **_A shrill, dark music— like the rain pelting the trees— like a waterfall_ **
> 
> **_Knifing down the black ledges?_ **

“This is true. I am.”

“Lord knows  _ why  _ you want to be friends with me,” Amber let out a sad chuckle, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I feel like I’m… nothing in comparison to how kind and wonderful you are.”

Andi walked over to where the other girl was sitting in the chair and began to run her hands through her honey-colored waves. “Amber, you’re  _ great!  _ Where is all of this coming from?”

“The depths of my mind in its shitty lesbian crisis?” she said with a shrug. “I’ve just been thinking a lot? I don’t know. I’m insecure. I’m a teenage girl! Isn’t that what we’re supposed to be? Insecure and at least a little self-loathing?”

Andi moved her hands from her hair to wrap her arms around Amber in a hug; trying to push down how much her heart was fluttering from the contact. “Well, just know that  _ I  _ love you, even if you don’t.”

“I love you, even if you don’t,” Amber started to sing, moving her hands to tickle Andi’s sides, causing her to squeal. “Got your knife up to my throat, why do you wanna see me bleeeee-eeee-eeed?”

“You know I hate that! Stop!” she said through fits of laughter, batting her hands around quickly to try to smack Amber’s away. “Not sure which is worse: the tickling or you bursting into a Ween song.”

“Um, I was singing the Two Tongues version,” Amber scoffed. “At least I have enough taste to sing the version that’s a gay duet. What do you think I am? A shitty straight dude?”

“Valid point,” Andi shrugged. “Anyway, back onto the paints?”

“Back onto the paints. I do like the shade you picked out, regardless of whether or not we agree about how sexy a paint swatch can be.”

“Great! We’ve just got to choose a gold and then… get the paints. Drive us?”

“It’s why the Great State of Midwest gifted me with a driver’s license. So I can lug around those who are too young to truly drive.”

> **_And did you see it, finally, just under the clouds—_ **
> 
> **_A white cross Streaming across the sky, its feet_ **
> 
> **_Like black leaves, its wings Like the stretching light of the river?_ **

The adventure to the paint store was relatively uneventful, Amber leaving Andi to pick out whatever colors she thought fit her best (“you  _ are  _ the color whisperer!” she insisted every time she shoved another decision onto her).

The two walked in through the door, hands full with cans and brushes, laughing at some stupid joke Andi had told. Amber visibly jumped at the sight of someone on the couch, before she took a deep breath and seemed visibly calmer.

“Don’t worry, it’s just me,” TJ chuckled, popping a chip into his mouth. “Did you think I was a midday burglar that chose to just lounge on your couch eating chips?”

“Worse. Thought you were dad,” Amber replied. “Who would beat your ass if he saw you eating on the couch! Feeling ballsy today, Teej? Or just stupid?”

“Like he’s ever home to actually carry it out,” TJ lounged back and continued snacking,  not looking at the two. This caused Amber to open and close the door again, to give the illusion of someone coming home. TJ seemed to leap up from where he was, quickly standing. “Not cool, Amber!”

“I thought it was pretty funny,” she chuckled, taking one of his chips. “I don’t think they should care about getting crumbs on this old thing anyway. She’s pretty run down.”

“Suits the rest of the house.”

“I’m redoing my room today, actually. Andi’s helping me!” Amber wrapped an arm around Andi, who was just standing there awkwardly and watching the two siblings interact until that point.

“Hi,” she gave a tiny wave. “It’s why we have paints. Giving Amber a whole new look! Not that she needs one, but a little change never hurt anyone.”

“Tell that to the many, many failed revolutions in history,” TJ retorted. “But enjoy painting. Don’t let the fumes go to your head. Mom’s working late again. We have to fend for ourselves for dinner. Search for scraps like rats.”

“Or,” Amber suggested. “We get take out. Where’s dad?”

“Do I look like I know where he is?”

“Fair point. Come on, Bambi. We have painting to do,” Amber led Andi into her room, her walls still blank and white. Perfect. Andi both loved and feared a blank canvas. It was untapped potential; it could be anything.

“Are you ready to make some art?” Andi smiled, hardly able to contain her excitement. “These walls are going to become something so much cooler! Are you ready?”

“I don’t know…” Amber bit her lip. “I’m not really a painting cool things type of girl. That’s more your forte. My skills haven’t really surpassed sketching pretty flowers. I’m not artsy like you are. Well, not in that way at least.”

“Don’t worry,” Andi held her hand, trying to sneakily slip a paintbrush into it. “This is your room. Whatever you paint here is wholly you. And that’s a  _ wonderful _ thing for a room to be,” she reached into her box of decorating supplies. “And I made stencils to help you out if you’re still feeling unsure. I thought the look of painting a cool gothic type gate onto the walls would make it a really pretty mural.”

Amber grabbed Andi’s hand, slipping the paintbrush back. “Or, you could paint the mural while I work on other things? Like hanging curtains or changing my bedspread! Or reorganizing my bookshelf.”

“I’ll  _ start  _ it for you,” Andi explained. “You can hang your curtains, which you were supposed to do when I  _ gave  _ them to you, and change your bedding but after that you can guarantee that I’m making you paint with me.”

“Fine. But don’t leave me painting anything super major that I don’t have a reference for. I don’t want to fuck it up too badly,” she responded, standing on the window seat to bring down the curtain rod.

“I’ll spare you the need to exercise anything more than low to moderate artistic talent,” Andi said, shaking her head. “The lace curtains are wherever you put them. The stuff for your bed is in the box. I think laying the lace over your current curtains would make a really cool effect when the light hits just right. Or you could keep just the lace curtains. Your decision.”

Amber walked over, ruffling Andi’s hair. “I trust your decision.”

Andi laughed softly. She popped open the can of black paint and grabbed her fitch. She dipped it into the paint and, holding her breath just slightly, pressed it against the wall, leaving a smooth black line. The rest would fall into place. The first line was always the most nerve-wracking. She let out a sigh of relief as she continued painting the imitation ironwork.

> **_And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?_ **

Ten minutes and a fair amount of brushstrokes later, Amber came behind her, wrapping her arms around Andi’s waist, causing the younger girl to jump and drop her paint-filled brush onto the wooden floor. She failed to understand how Amber could be so casually affectionate with her. She didn’t seem to be this touchy with any of her other friends. The only other living thing Amber seemed to be more affectionate with was Macaroni.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. “I just wanted to tell you that it looks really pretty so far. You’re really good at this.”

“Thank you. I care about art a lot. It’s therapeutic for me,” Andi responded, kneeling down to pick up the paintbrush she had dropped. This would have been fine, had Amber not also knelt down to grab it, causing the two to bump foreheads. Andi let out an audible  _ ouch _ before grabbing the brush and standing up, rubbing the spot where the collision had occurred.

“Sorry! I was just trying to grab it for you. Lemme look at the damage,” Amber moved Andi’s hands away from her forehead and stroked her thumb over the spot. Andi held her breath as she did so, her heart trying to break free from the prison of her ribcage. “The good news is I don’t think I’ve given you a concussion. Just a little red mark.”

“Surprising, you didn’t crack my head open with your thick skull,” Andi teased, sticking her tongue out a bit. “It’s fine. Though there is a little splatter of paint on the floor from where the brush hit. I think you can still get it off with water—”

“No need,” Amber shrugged. “It gives it… character. It’s like a little memory of us doing this together.”

“Of me painting your walls for you.”

“Well, I finished the two tasks I distracted myself with if you’d like to show me how to paint these?” she smiled up at Andi sweetly, her pale green eyes shining with an emotion Andi couldn’t quite decipher.

“Sure. I haven’t added the detailwork yet, so we’ve just been working out the lines of the fence,” Andi explained. “You see how it makes a pattern of straight verticals and the slanted lines? We just keep with that pattern. If you continue it, I’ll start adding the details on the parts that are already painted.”

“Alright… seems simple enough,” Amber nodded. “Do you have a brush for me to use?”

“Use this one,” Andi handed her the brush she had been using. “I’ll grab a smaller one for the details. Remember, confident lines.”

As she worked on painting gothic elements onto the pre-established lines, she cast a glance over at Amber to check on her progress. She hadn’t finished her first line yet, taking the tiniest and daintiest brushstrokes imaginable. She would have to help her.

“No, no,” Andi came up behind Amber, grabbing her hand with the brush in it. She could have sworn she heard Amber’s breath hitch as she did. “You’re not going to get the kind of lines you want like that. The line represents the attitude in which it was drawn. You need to paint with confidence in what you’re painting!”

Amber paused momentarily before responding. “I have no confidence in what I’m painting.”

Andi smiled and shook her head. Still holding her hand with the brush, she guided Amber’s hand smoothly down the wall, creating an even line. “See? It’s not too hard. If you want, you can use a lining stick or any long, straight edge as a substitute. If it’ll make you feel better. Just glide in nice, long brushstrokes. Your lines will look cleaner. Happier.”

“Are you a line whisperer too now?”

“What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents,” Andi shrugged nonchalantly. “Andi Mack: line whisperer, color guru.”

“Newly found lover of poetry,” Amber chuckled. “Speaking of, how do you like  _ Passing  _ so far? I know it can be a little glum at points.”

“I actually loved it,” Andi commented, scooting the stool she was on a little bit more so she could move onto painting details on a different area. “I finished it a day or two ago— I just hadn’t gotten a chance to really give it back to you.”

“Taking it slower this time? You finished the first one in a day,” Amber teased, standing on her toes. “This is hard to reach. How do you do it?”

“I was preoccupied making things for you. Forgive my slower reading pace,” she retorted. “And, if you look at my feet, you’ll see I have a stool. I’m sure you have something else to stand on.”

“Did Michelangelo paint the Sistine Chapel in pieces before it was a ceiling or was he just hanging out trying to paint on an already installed ceiling? Because that’d be a lot more impressive,” Amber contemplated, searching around her room before deciding to stand on a pile of textbooks.

“I don’t know much about Michelangelo except that he was gay and petty and I find that admirable.”

“He was gay?”

“Almost all artists were gay. Or at the very least bi. Frida Kahlo slept with the woman her husband was cheating on her with.  _ That’s  _ a power move.”

“Learn something new every day.”

“I guess you do.”

The two painted together in relative silence, save for the record Amber stopped to put on her pastel record player. Andi kept looking over from her detailing to check and make sure Amber was continuing to do the lines correctly. She couldn’t help but admire how pretty Amber was like this: intensely focused, a few splotches of black paint on her hands. She averted her gaze, fearing the blonde would catch her staring. Though this didn’t prevent her from still catching the occasional glance. Sometimes, when she did this, Amber and hers eyes met, causing each of their gazes to dart away and both to giggle to themselves.

“What do I do when I’m finished with the gate lines? Because I think I am,” Amber spoke, beckoning the other to come and observe her work.

“Great! If you want, you can start working on adding a few golden accents to the decorations that I’ve already painted,” Andi suggested, popping open the golden paint. “I’d use the itty bitty brush for this. Just paint gold wherever it feels right.”

“You’re not gonna show me how to do it?” Amber asked, biting her bottom lip. Andi shook her head. “But what if I mess it up beyond repair?”

“I trust in your artistic eye enough. Just highlight and paint what you think is pretty to define it more. It’s your room. Do what feels right.”

“Fiiiine,” she groaned, grabbing the thinnest brush in the set and walking to the other side of the room where they had started. “When you’re done painting what you’re doing, come join me?”

“Of course,” Andi said, looking at the floral insignia she was painting. “What time do you think your parents are coming home?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, putting the gold paint onto the wall. “Mom’s probably stuck late in a meeting with her boss. She’s up for a promotion so she’s been working really hard. Dad isn’t too pleased with it though.”

“Why not? That sounds great!”

“He doesn’t like her boss. It’s stupid really,” Amber replied. “He thinks the only reason her boss is  _ considering  _ her for this promotion is because she’s… well, he uses a gross word for it… but he thinks she’s infatuated with my mom. Which I think is  _ stupid.  _ He can’t even appreciate the fact that maybe his wife is a hard worker.”

Andi wasn’t exactly sure what to say. Sure, her family situation was complicated, but at least there was genuine love all throughout it. This kind of love seemed to be… absent from her household. “I’m sorry.”

“I think he’s just upset that she’s climbing up the ranks in her career and he can’t even hold one,” Amber’s voice was laced with a bitter tone. “He probably went job hunting, which went wrong, and now he’s at some sports bar to get away from the stress of it all.”

“Oh,” was all she could manage to say as she kept painting. Her mind mulled over things she could say to her to make things better, but it all came up blank. It was a few minutes, and several bits of railing, later before she spoke again. “I know that they’re all caught up in their own problems, but there are people who care for you.”

“I just wish when I acted out and did things they wouldn’t want me doing, they looked away for a second to  _ notice.  _ It’s been like this for so long, it feels like it’ll be forever which just TJ and I looking out for each other,” her voice was heavy with a neatly-contained pain. It made her work quickly though, Andi noted with a bit of an inappropriate admiration. She was painting with soul.

“It’s not just the two of you who care about each other, you know,” Andi replied, focusing on how paint pooled whenever she set her brush down. She didn’t want to look at Amber’s expression. “TJ has Cyrus and you have me.”

“I guess I do, huh?” a soft, solemn chuckle escaped Amber’s mouth. “I mean, who else would carry through and help me out with my stupid, impulsive decision to become a classy goth girl?”

Andi felt warmth grow on her cheeks. “I care about you. And I will continue to care about you. Even if they don’t.”

The next thing Andi heard was a paintbrush clatter on the floor. The next thing she felt was a pair of arms wrap themselves tightly around her shoulders and a head nuzzling into her. The scent of coconut shampoo. Her heart racing.

“Thank you, Andi,” Amber spoke from where she was buried into her friend’s collarbone. “I mean it. Thank you. For everything.”

Andi placed her arms around Amber’s waist and rested her head on top of Amber’s until one of them broke the hug. “There’s no need to thank me. Though I wouldn’t mind you lending me another book.”

“Of course,” Amber replied, wiping away some tears from her cheek. “Is there anything you’d prefer? My bookshelf is your bookshelf.”

“Except for the mysterious pink book,” Andi replied. “Is it your writing? AE… Amber Emilia Kippen. Emilia with an E, which I always thought was weird, but it fits the AE thing.”

“Not my writing,” Amber told her. “My aunt’s. I was named after her. Kind of. Her name was Amelia Elise. We have the same initials, and my middle name is her name but spelled differently. Her and my mom were the best of friends, though my dad wasn’t too fond of her. Mom always tells me I’m her spitting image in looks and personality. Even our handwriting is similar.”

“How long has she been gone?” Andi asked. “Sorry if that’s an insensitive question, but you seem to think of her so fondly.”

“Oh, for a few years now. When I was six or so,” Amber responded, casting a look over to her bookshelf. Instead, she picked up her brush and continued painting. “My dad didn’t like her for some wild reason, which I know  _ now. _ She was also… also a lesbian. So I guess I really am her spitting image, in ways that my mom doesn’t even know. I remember being a kid and whenever I would visit her, or she’d come to see me, she’d read me poems. The way she read was always so captivating.”

“And that book is her poetry?” Andi didn’t know all of this about Amber. The more time she spent with her, the more layers she peeled back.

“Yeah, almost all of the books on that shelf are. Except for one of them, which is a notebook she left for me that was blank. For me to put my own poems in.”

“How long have you had all of these?” for some reason, Andi couldn’t picture a six year old being allowed to explore her recently-deceased aunt’s lesbian poetry.

“They’ve been in a box addressed to me since I was six. But I was instructed to not open them until I turned thirteen or was on an intense path of self discovery: whichever came first. Thirteen came first, but only just.”

“I don’t want to read them if they mean so much to you,” Andi said. “It seems like such a deep, personal connection between you and her. I wouldn’t want to come in between that.”

“You can eventually,” Amber told her, continuing to move across the walls at an impressive pace for a new artist. “I just want to take some time. Reread them again. It’s a part of me, I guess. A lot of these books are parts of me.”

“Thank you for sharing parts of you with me, then.”

“Hey! You said you were going to help out when you were finished with the black!” Amber gasped in offense, which Andi knew was only playful. Andi hadn’t even realized Amber was approaching the end of the job, let alone finished with it.

“But look at you. You finished it all by yourself. I’m proud of you,” Andi was currently seated in the window seat, looking for another book.

“I’m not quite finished though.”

“What do you mean? It looks  _ beautiful.  _ You did a great job!”

Amber rolled her eyes. “Just come here, Bambi. I want you to take a closer look and inspect it. Tell me if there’s anything missing!”

“Fine, but I don’t see the—”

As she faced Amber, all Andi felt was the paintbrush Amber was using stroke across her cheek, leaving a golden line. “What are you doing, Amber?”

“You told me to paint what I thought was pretty to make it stand out more. I think you’re pretty, so I highlighted it with gold.”

Andi, in one swift motion, took the brush from Amber’s hand and laid a thin streak of gold across her face. “Fine, then I’ll paint what I think is pretty too.”

> **_And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?_ **

A large smile was spread on Amber’s face. Her pale eyes were practically sparkling, though not from the metallic paint that now sported itself upon her cheeks. Amber’s hand reached up to cup Andi’s face, her thumb running against the line she had just painted. It was impossible for Andi to breathe when Amber was caressing her face so naturally, as if it was how the two were meant to be. Andi reached her hand up to trace the line she herself had created.

Her heart pounded heavily, to the point where she thought she could feel it in her hand as she moved her thumb methodically across Amber’s cheeks. She was unfairly pretty. Her features were soft, and artistically crafted. Amber kept her hand cupped around her cheek. Another trace of the line she made, that traced down her jawline. Andi held her breath. She could have sworn Amber was pulling her closer, or maybe Andi was subconsciously moving her face to meet with the artwork that was Amber’s. The two seemed to be moving in slow motion, neither sure if they wanted to be the one to continue moving towards the other.

Then came the door slamming. And the screaming. Though it only came from one male voice, and only carried one half of the conversation. Amber pulled away first, fear being far too apparent in her eyes. Andi placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down, but she tensed up. “You should make a run for it while he’s still occupied in the kitchen,” was all she said, a misplaced humor to her voice.

“I’ll text you when I get home, okay?” Andi told her, conflicted about what to say.

“Hey, before you leave,” Amber walked over to her shelf and pulled off another book and handed it to Andi, a collection of poems by Mary Oliver. “Don’t forget to take a book.”

“Don’t forget what I said to you. I care about you. And don’t forget to take care of yourself, okay? Especially when they don’t.”

“Don’t worry, Bambi. I’ve got this. It’s just the same old, same old. Thanks for painting with me. I had fun.”

“I did too.”

Andi managed to sneak past Mr. Kippen without him noticing her. When she got home, Bex asked about the streak of gold paint on her face, though Andi didn’t come up with a coherent response to it. She just kept looking at it, tracing her fingers across it as Amber had done. What would have happened if her dad didn’t come home? Was Amber about to kiss her? The more she thought about her friend, the stronger the urge to kiss her became. Her lips were so pink and they seemed so… soft.

She tried to shake off the thought, but to no avail. Amber still heavy in her mind, she opened the book. She texted Amber the she got home safe, wondering how Amber was feeling surrounded by more yelling than she needed.

Trying to discard the image of how sad Amber looked when she talked about her family, Andi focused her attention on the first page. There was always time to think about Amber.

> **_And have you changed your life?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to upload, school and mental health have been kicking my ass.


	5. The Millions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amber's family life is falling apart and so is she.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poem Used: "The Million" by Lydia Havens

> **_There is a girl with blood the color_ **
> 
> **_of outer space, and we only know this_ **
> 
> **_because we watched her die. her body_ **
> 
> **_was suddenly a coin in a sinkhole—_ **
> 
> **_there, then not._ **

Amber was unable to get Andi Mack out of her head. Thoughts of her kept sneaking into the corner of her brain— memories of the few moments before her father’s untimely return playing to fill the silence. As she washed the golden paint off of her face, the sensation of Andi’s hands brushing so  _ tenderly  _ against her cheeks came to her once more. She hated losing herself in hypotheticals, but she couldn’t stop herself from dwelling on what might have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted by an over-the-phone argument: chaos and turmoil entering the home.

Her mother didn’t come home that night. It was unlike her, to disappear like that without calling. Worry bubbled within Amber’s gut. As she often did, she feared the worst. Once it got to a concerningly late hour in the night, she knocked on her parent’s bedroom door. Her dad opened it, annoyance clear on his face.

“It’s late, chickpea,” was all he said. “You should be in bed asleep by now.”

“It’s not a school night, at least,” Amber shrugged, a little smile on her face as she shrugged. “I was wondering if mom came in and I just didn’t hear her or—”

Her dad cut her off. “She isn’t home.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“Not exactly. I just know she’s staying out tonight. Might come home tomorrow.”

“Aren’t you the least bit worried?” Amber could only describe how she was feeling as angrily confused.  _ Why wouldn’t he be more upset about this? _

“She’s probably with  _ Erin _ for a late night,” Amber noticed his knuckles go white from the tension with which he clenched his fists. “Your mother’s either becoming a dyke or too stupid to realize she’s the plaything of one.”

Amber flinched at the word. It flowed from him with so much… anger, yet no hesitation. “What do you mean by that? Isn’t Erin her boss? Why would she be spending the night with her? There could be something wrong! Has she told you where she is?”

“No,” he slammed the frame of the door. “But I  _ know  _ where she is goddammit! That fucking woman is trying to ruin our marriage! God, if I had known the woman I married was going to wind up being some rug muncher, I wouldn’t have married her. It’s… unnatural, you know? I just… can’t get used to it.”

“I mean, you don’t  _ know  _ these things about Mom,” Amber winced, feeling her heart grow heavier. “Besides, it’s not that  _ bad,  _ you know… to be gay or lesbian or anything. There are kids at school—”

“And I hope to God that you keep a healthy distance from most of them. I don’t want… ideas running through your head. If I could stop TJ from spending time with that pansy that he’s always got attached to him—”

“Cyrus—”

“I don’t give a damn what his name is. I just know  _ what  _ he is. Your brother was a hell of a lot better before they were friends. That Reed was a  _ good  _ friend for him. Not afraid of being a man.”

“Reed has a criminal record, Dad,” Amber interrupted. “Cyrus is kind— he’s helped  _ me  _ out with a lot of stuff, you know. He’s helped TJ a lot too, convincing him to get help for his dyscalculia.”

“I just wish he were more of a man and less of a… flower,” he said, slightly disgusted. “I swear, every time they hang out, I grow more and more worried for your brother. I don’t want him to get converted into that kind of lifestyle. Not my kid.”

Amber looked down at her feet, feeling as if steel began to replace flesh from the bottom-up, feeling herself grow heavier and heavier as the moments passed. “What would you say,” her voice trembled as she spoke. “If one of us, TJ or I,  _ did  _ wind up being gay?”

“Are you?” aggression laced his voice, his hand still raised and clutching the doorframe.

“I was just asking as a hypothetical,” she mumbled. “What would you say?”

“Are you?”

“How would you feel?”

“Amber,  _ are you?”  _ he spoke through clenched teeth.

“No, dad,” her voice fell; her face grew solemn. “Of course not.”

> **_but who am i to pretend_ **
> 
> **_that she was the first shining nickel_ **
> 
> **_to drown in the sand? we have watched_ **
> 
> **_woman after woman after woman_ **
> 
> **_become cruel magic trick, one minute_ **
> 
> **_they are loving the girls of their dreams_ **

“Don’t scare me like that, chickpea,” he ran his fingers through her long, blonde hair. “If one of you two, my pride and joy, managed to end up like  _ that…  _ I don’t know what I’d do. Or how I’d handle it. I just hope I didn’t fail as a parent enough to warrant that ever happening in the first place.”

“Sorry to scare you, Dad,” she replied, rendered unable to make eye contact with him. “You can go back to sleep if you want. I just wanted to know about mom.”

“Goodnight, chickpea,” he kissed the top of her head. “I love you.”

_ You wouldn’t.  _ “Goodnight, dad,” Amber replied. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

> **_and the next they are bleeding out_ **
> 
> **_in bed._ **

Amber had lied down in bed with stress weighing heavily within her mind. Half of her was upset and angry by the conversation with her father; the other half was still concerned about where her mother was. Over an hour passed and the dark ceiling her eyes were fixed upon had yet to change. Quietly, so as to not disturb the members of her family that were home, she sat in her window seat and turned on the reading light, pulling the pink book labelled in gold sharpie from her shelves. She pulled out a highlighter and a pencil from the cup of supplies that was resting on the shelf closest to her and began to reread her aunt’s words. Almost every word had been highlighted or circled or marked with an annotation next to it.

Reading and rereading these books made her feel… connected to Amelia in some way. She wasn’t sure if the link was mental or spiritual, but the words on the paper felt as if they had life and breath,  _ her  _ life and breath, as each poem displayed itself on its given page.

_ I wish you were still here. That way I had some form of older guidance to help me handle this,  _ Amber traced her long fingers across the cracked spine of the book and sighed. She was afraid— she knew that much. Yet, as she picked up each of the volumes of her aunt’s poetry, she felt a little more at peace. 

Macaroni hopped into her lap as she read. Amber smiled at the cat, petting her soft fur as she purred, content with the state of her little feline world. She didn’t know the turmoil of Amber’s inner monologue. She just loved her owner, regardless of anything else. It was comforting, at least, to have some form of unconditional love.

Still unable to sleep, she texted Andi. She wasn’t expecting a response, given the ungodly hour of the night, but she held out some sort of hope.

**Amber:** hey

A few minutes passed, Amber didn’t bother waiting anxiously for a reply. It was foolish to expect one. When her phone screen lit up, she was a bit taken aback.

**Andi:** cant sleep either?

**Amber:** not really. nervous

**Andi:** why?

**Amber:** my dad went on this huge homophobic rant and my mom isnt even home

**Amber:** it just sucks i guess to know that if he knew i liked women hed hate me

**Andi:** that does suck. if u ever need a backup set of parents mine are always here for unconditional support

**Andi:** theyre here for u and so am i

**Andi:** and i always will be

Amber was sometimes envious of Andi’s homelife. Of course, her family situation was immensely complicated with her believing a lie for the first thirteen years of her life, but at least there was deep and unconditional love between all of them. Andi didn’t have to worry about who she was or what her interests were in her house. With the benefit that both of the Mack parents were openly bisexual, there was so much less… fear, being there.

**Amber:** thank you

**Amber:** i dont know what id do without you??

**Andi:** anytime

**Andi:** i love you after all

> **_girls like us cannot get the happy endings._ **

Amber’s heart twisted within her chest as she read that text, knowing Andi didn’t mean it in the way Amber always did. However, she was unable to stop rereading the text and imagining Andi yearning for her,  _ pining,  _ in the same fashion as she did. It was foolish, to picture Andi tracing over her own streak of golden face paint, thinking about what would have happened had Mr. Kippen not barged into the house. Was she thinking of Amber kissing her with the same longing that she wished to be kissed? Were her thoughts occupied with thoughts of cascading golden waves with the same passion that Amber’s own mind was littered with images of her hands running through short raven strands? It would be stupid to think so.

**Amber:** I love you too.

She placed the books back onto the shelf and turned off her reading light, ready to call it a night. Her phone still by her side, she crawled into bed.

**Amber:** thank you for talking to me like this. i feel less alone.

**Andi:** of course. i care about you, silly <3

**Amber:** thank you for that then, i guess

**Amber:** im gonna go to bed i think

**Andi:** okay <333 goodnight

**Andi:** text me tomorrow

**Andi:** i love you

**Amber:** i love you too.

With her phone resting next to her pillow, Amber closed her eyes and was able to drift into sleep, Andi’s “i love you”s still deep within her mind.

Amber woke up late on a sleepy Sunday morning to her dad at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper. Oddly enough, TJ was awake before her. Typically, he slept in until noon, unless some obligation (whether it be school or a weekend practice) prompted him to wake up earlier. But there he was, shuffling through the pantry looking for breakfast.

“Morning, chickpea,” her dad said, not looking up from his paper. “You’re up a bit later than normal. It’s almost half past eleven.”

“Trouble sleeping,” she said. “Anything interesting in the paper this morning? You’re more invested in it than normal, which is impressive,” she teased, looking over his shoulder.

“Just looking at job listings,” he said. “I’ve already finished the crossword and the sudoku. Might apply to the bank… seems stable.”

“As long as you can do math,” she commented, grabbing a yogurt from the fridge and taking her seat at the table.

“Yeah, who knows? Maybe I get my stupid genes from you,” TJ joked, opening a packet of toaster tarts. “Though with your love of Sudoku, I doubt it.”

“I always  _ do  _ say that Macaroni is the second most intelligent creature in this house,” Amber joked, just as the cat came into the kitchen to munch on some of the hard food that was in her bowl. “Speak of the little devil,” she went to go fill the bowl once Macaroni stepped away from it to some other area of the house, only to notice the bag was incredibly light. “We need to get more food for her.”

“And that was the last of the toaster tarts,” TJ chimed in, taking a bite out of the pastry.

“I’ll go out grocery shopping in a bit,” their dad groaned. “Just… make a list of shit we need. I’ll get dressed and then I’m headed out. If you can think of anything just text it to me.”

“Doesn’t mom usually go grocery shopping?” TJ asked.

“Well, your mother isn’t  _ here  _ right now,” the older man responded through gritted teeth. “So  _ I’m  _ going out. Is that good for you, TJ?”

“...Fine by me,” was all her brother had to say before their dad walked off. “Where’s mom?” he asked to Amber, lowering his voice so to not provoke the other force within the house.

“I don’t know,” Amber bit her lip. “She didn’t come home last night. Dad thinks she’s spent the night with her boss. I don’t want to talk about this… out here. Just wait a few minutes until he’s out and we can talk.”

“I’ll be in my room,” TJ said as he stood up and left the kitchen, leaving only Amber and her strawberry yogurt. She focused on finishing her breakfast, as she saw her dad walk past and out of the back door.

Once the door slammed and the violent tension left the house, Amber walked down the hall to her little brother’s door, tapping lightly. “Hey, T, let me in.”

A few seconds passed before the door creaked open. In the lower lighting of his bedroom, Amber was able to finally notice how oddly prominent the circles underneath his eyes were. “So, what’s going on with him and mom and everything?”

“Last night, when mom didn’t come home, I asked him where she was,” Amber began. “He said he hadn’t heard from her, but was  _ convinced  _ she was with her boss, calling her… a rather nasty word that I don’t really want to repeat in this context.”

“Ah, so he was being homophobic,” TJ popped in. “I get it.”

“So I  _ mentioned  _ that, hey, maybe gays aren’t absolute degenerates and that there are some really cool gay kids at school and—”

“He brought up Cyrus,” TJ interrupted. “I’ve heard that _stop being friends with that_ — and then he picks a homophobic slur out of a hat— _he’s a bad influence. Him and his two other friends that you and your sister seem to spend so much time around_ speech quite often. He thinks that hanging around people who aren’t completely gender conforming are gonna turn us into a gaggle of queers. God, what do you think he’d say if he _knew_ about anything?”

Amber bit her lip until she tasted iron, not even thinking about the pressure she was applying. “What’s wrong with you?” she tried to change the topic. “You haven’t been sleeping well, I can see it on your face.”

TJ shrugged. “I’m cool. It’s just that this shit gets to you sometimes, you know? I keep waking up in the middle of the night. It’s not a big deal. I usually call or text Cyrus until I can sleep again.”

“What do you talk about?”

“Nothing really. You know him, he likes to try to psychoanalyze people, but I don’t like having my brain picked all the time. So, sometimes we just… talk. He’ll ask me about sports sometimes. I know he doesn’t know a damn thing, but he still sounds interested. I don’t know if he knows I’m gay. I can’t remember if I’ve ever told him.”

“That’s something I think you’d remember,” she tapped his arm playfully. “I mean, it’s not like you’re out to most people. I figured you’d remember who knows and who doesn’t!”

He shrugged again. “I guess.”

There was stagnancy in the air once again, and the two siblings just sat together in silence for awhile: TJ on one end of the bed and Amber on the other with the sleeping Macaroni as the divider between the two.

“Do you think dad might have a point?” TJ broke the silence. “About mom, I mean. Like, as much as I  _ hate  _ to admit whenever he’s right, he could be onto something. Like, think about it. She stays late  _ all  _ the time, and grabs dinner at nice restaurants with her boss. And now she’s not even home…”

Logically, she knew that TJ probably had some sort of a point. Maybe her mother  _ was  _ with a woman. Was it bad that she kind of hoped that she was? It would feel less… lonely. Granted, she feared the reaction of her father. “I don’t know,” was all she could think of as a response. “I guess it could be possible. If you look at it like that, I guess it’s a plausibility.”

She’d rather her mother be on some secret sapphic rendez-vous than just… missing, after all. Silence fell in the room once more, with the two siblings just kind of looking at each other. They were always mistaken for twins, being so close in age to one another and being so close. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable— it never was—  just heavy.

> **_girls like us can’t even work for them,_ **
> 
> **_try and earn them. was our kind not_ **
> 
> **_written into history correctly? are our hearts_ **
> 
> **_not worthy of the castle, the princess_ **
> 
> **_saving the princess?_ **

This time, it was Amber who spoke and broke the lull in conversation. “Do you think that there’s a chance that Andi’s gay?”

“Definitely.”

“I wish it weren’t such a weird taboo thing!” she groaned. “I just want to be able to walk up to a pretty girl and be able to be like  _ hey, I think you’re really hot, are you into girls?  _ and that’d be it! But  _ noooo,  _ I have to play a bunch of fucking guessing games to see if I have a chance or if I’ll be the potential victim of a hate crime! I can’t just go up to Andi and say  _ are you by any chance attracted to women because I think I’ve liked or maybe even loved you for years!  _ I can’t do that and it’s exhausting!”

TJ wore a smug grin, leaning back with a small chuckle. “There it is. You’ve  _ finally  _ admitted it. Out loud, at least.”

“What?”

“The fact that you’re head-over-heels for Andi,” he explained. “You kept denying it. I mean, I already  _ knew  _ this, but it’s nice to hear you actually say it. Besides, you could always just ask if she likes girls. I doubt she’d be  _ offended _ or anything.”

“It’s just a weird question to ask,” Amber buried her face in Macaroni’s fluff, causing the cat to make a small  _ brrrp _ as a reaction to being woken up. “I don’t want her to force herself to come out to me. It’s a personal thing, you know?”

“I guess.”

Amber’s phone dinged. A text from Andi.

**Andi:** how are you holding up?

**Amber:** okay i guess? my mom still hasnt come home

**Andi:** oh

**Amber:** yeah and i still cant stop thinking about what he said yesterday

**Amber:** he doesnt even like us hanging out with you or cyrus or buffy because of how you act. its stupid

**Andi:** i would say we might give you some kind of gay disease but youd already have it

Amber read the message over quizzically. Amber had typed “have you ever come out to your parents?” before erasing it. Then typed, “are you actually gay?” and erased that one too. She then typed “I love you” before doing the same.

“Do you think mom would be okay with me being a lesbian?” she asked her brother, nibbling on her lower lip. “I want to know what she’d think. Especially because I’ve been thinking about Aunt Amelia. I’ve been rereading the books she left me,” she continued. “I was talking about her to Andi earlier and it made me think that her and mom were so close and, since mom knew that she was a lesbian, maybe she wouldn’t care if  _ I  _ were a lesbian.”

“Makes sense. Are you planning on telling her?”

“I don’t know,” she responded. “Maybe.”

TJ didn’t look up from the bed, as if he were busy intensely studying every stitch in his quilted comforter. “It’s your choice. A ballsy one, but if you do wind up facing any negative repercussions, I’ll stick up for you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled softly. Macaroni adjusted her position on the bed to lean against Amber. The girl scritched the cream-colored cat’s ears.

“Me and Macaroni.”

The back door creaked open and shut again, though lighter than their dad’s typical entrance. Heels clicked on the tile. Their mother was home.

> **_the answer they want us to have: no._ **

“Mom!” Amber rushed into the kitchen, hugging her mother tightly. It took until after she pulled away to notice the tired look on her face— the disheveled blonde hair.

“Hi, chickie,” her voice sounded drained. “How are you?”

“Where were you? I’ve been worried sick,” Amber folded her arms sternly. “You didn’t call or text or  _ anything!  _ You could have died!”

“Don’t you sound like a mother,” the older woman chuckled, patting her daughter on the head. “I needed to spend a night out. I felt like I couldn’t breathe here, around your father. There’s just… always so much.”

“So you just  _ left  _ us?” hurt was thick within Amber’s voice. “You can’t just up and walk away! I thought something happened! What’s even going  _ on _ with you?”

“I’ve just been working hard. I’m  _ tired  _ after work, and all this does is drain me. It’s a toxic place to be,” she groaned, sitting down at the kitchen table. “Surely you understand.”

“You’re the one raising two kids here,” Amber pursed her lips, her body tense. “The only difference is that it’s harder for us to just up and walk away from it.”

Her mother put her head between her arms on the tabletop. “I know, I— I’ve just been so  _ stupid _ lately, okay? Keeping secrets from people and disappearing, it’s just… there’s something I wanted to tell you guys.”

“There’s something I wanted to tell you too,” Amber said. The words just kind of came out of her, slipped out, without her consent or thought. “It’s not anything bad— I don’t think— it’s just… I just don’t know how  _ you’ll  _ feel about it.”

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” concern grew wide in the older woman’s eyes.

“No!”

“Oh, thank god,” she let out a sigh of relief. “You are  _ far  _ too young to have babies. Hell, I think I was still too young to have babies when I did, and I was twenty-five. What do you need to tell me?”

“You first?” Amber asked. Her blood, once frozen when she had first said it, had now restored itself to pulsing quickly throughout her body. Everything was racing; her hands were tapping compulsively at her side.

“I’m the mother. You first.”

Amber took a deep breath, trying to focus on how to say what she needed to say. Unable to look her mother in the face, she kept her green eyes focused on her neatly trimmed nails. “This is just for you, okay? I don’t want you to tell dad.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t tell your father much,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood, though with blacker comedy than perhaps recommended.

“I’m…” she stumbled over her words, trying to figure out the best way to say them, but finding the sentence caught in the back of her throat. “I’m a lesbian. I think.”

“You think?”

“I know. I just. I don’t know how to phrase it in a way that makes it sound less like a disappointment,” she still kept her gaze fixed upon her black polish.

“You’re not a disappointment, darling,” her mother reached from her side of the table to try to hold her hand and reassure her. Amber set her hand on the table, allowing the contact to happen. “You always did remind me so much of Amelia.”

> **_of course not._ **

“I’ve been reading her writing,” Amber mumbled. “It’s helped me through a lot. Her poems have been one of the only things that helped me realize I’m not alone. I’ve been terrified to do this.”

“You look like she did when she was a girl,” she smiled. “I always wished I had her confidence to not care what others thought of her. I did the conventional thing, you know. Got married young, had kids. I always wondered… look where it got me.”

“What did you want to tell me?” Amber asked, fear present, though only subtly, within her tone once more.

“I got the promotion,” she wore a small, nervous smile. “I, um, have to be moved to a different office. I won’t be working under Erin anymore.”

Amber looked at her mother quizzically. Her hesitation now only made less sense. “I don’t get why you would be so nervous. Isn’t that a great thing? I mean, unless there’s something  _ else  _ you’re not saying, mom.”

Her mother didn’t look at her, only staring at her hands. “It’s… complicated, being an adult and having responsibilities. Sometimes you forget that you also have a responsibility to yourself. I forget that I need to do things for myself.”

“I’m… not picking up.”

“Your father and I need some time away from each other, for all of our sake,” the words came out of her quickly, but the speed didn’t quell the anger bubbling within Amber’s core. “Spending the night away from him was the first time in a while I’ve felt able to breathe and exist as myself. Do you understand?”

Amber’s face was unmoving as she spoke through clenched teeth. “Yeah, mom, I understand. Where are you going to go?”

“I’m going to stay with… a friend… for a bit,” she wrapped her arms around her daughter, who refused to reciprocate the hug, causing the older woman to pull away with a solemn look. “Thank you for being the rock that this family needs.”

“Have you ever considered that I don’t  _ want  _ to be the rock? Or that maybe I have  _ emotions  _ and feelings that I’d like to express but can’t because I’m busy trying to clean up after your guys’ shit so we seem a little less dysfunctional?”

“Amb…”

“You can go run off and think about what you need to do and I’ll  _ stay  _ and be the rock and deal with whatever fucking homophobic comments Dad makes about you or others while I just sit in my little closet and don’t say a word! Meanwhile you’re healing! It’ll be  _ great _ for you!”

Her mother went to reach for her, but Amber had already turned her back to go to her room. She grabbed a few books from her shelf to stick in her bag and a change of clothes before she started to head out of the door.

“Where are you going, young lady?”

“It doesn’t matter to you. It hasn’t mattered to you for years, so I don’t see why it should now.”

She took out her phone and texted Andi.

**Amber:** are you home?

> **_the answer we make for ourselves: yes._ **

Without waiting for a proper response, she started driving to Andi’s house, ignoring her phone ringing over and over again with calls from her mouth. As she drove to the other girl’s house, Amber allowed herself to cry. Crying was a weird experience for her; she was the kind to shed crocodile tears to get what she wanted, but not the kind to sob to herself. Here she was: pathetic and weeping, the tears welling in her eyes blurring her vision. She turned the car radio up, hoping the blaring music would drown out her crying to her own ears. No avail.

Surprisingly sans accident, Amber pulled into Andi’s driveway and decided to check her phone. Three missed calls from her mother, and two texts from Andi.

**Andi:** yeah

**Andi:** everything okay?

Amber walked up to her door and knocked. When Andi opened the door, all Amber was able to do was wrap her arms around her and cry into her shoulder. Andi’s hands found their way into Amber’s hair, stroking it gently.

“What’s wrong, Amber? What happened?” she asked as she guided the crying girl over to the couch.

And so Amber explained what had transpired: the coming out, the separation, the  _ fear  _ she felt at her and TJ being left in the house alone with their father. Most of all, Amber felt  _ angry  _ and betrayed.

Andi pulled Amber closer to her, allowing the blonde to rest her head upon Andi’s chest. “That’s… fucked up. She’s just… that’s just… it’s unfair to you guys. How did TJ react?”

“He hasn’t,” Amber winced. “Mom only told me. I’m the  _ rock  _ of the family, you know. It’s just annoying, I guess, that they all see me like that. They didn’t even notice that I’ve been doing stupid stuff and acting out. They don’t care.”

“I’m sorry,” was all Andi said. “What are you going to do when you go back?”

A groan. “God, I don’t know. I’m hoping that they’ll make the smart decision to not talk to me. TJ hasn’t tried reaching out to me, so I’m guessing he doesn’t know what’s going on yet. I’m just. Upset.”

“I know. You can stay here for a bit if you need. I’m sure my parents wouldn’t mind,” Andi said. Amber couldn’t quite put into words how much Andi meant to her. It was a difficult thing to do: how could she express such profound gratitude, such strong admiration?

The two wound up migrating into Andi’s bedroom, Amber making the decision to sprawl out dramatically on the mattress, consuming most of its room. Andi, deciding to not be confined to the very edges of her own bed, stretched out, trying to shove Amber to the side.

“Hey!” the blonde girl chuckled in mock offense.

“It’s my bed!”

The two, each trying to shove the other off, winded up in a mess of entangled limbs, their faces a little  _ too  _ close. Amber felt Andi’s hitched breath in her ear. She didn’t know if it was the exercise or potential nerves which caused such shortness of breath.

> **_a thousand times. we are the glory women,_ **
> 
> **_those who dare to hold other glory_ **
> 
> **_in our hands. they don’t write joy for us,_ **
> 
> **_so we pick up the pen ourselves and_ **
> 
> **_cross it all out. we dare to defy the odds._ **

“Um…” Andi broke the silence before trying to untangle herself, tucking a piece of short, black hair behind her ear. “You won that one. I’ll be nice and give it to you.”

“You’re not  _ giving  _ anything to me. I won that one fairly. It was an  _ earned  _ victory,” she laughed as she spread her limbs out like a starfish, before lying normally to give Andi her spot. “I’ll be kind to you.”

Andi scoffed. “Thank you for so  _ kindly  _ allowing me to sit on my own bed, your majesty,” she said with an eye roll.  Amber wrapped her arms around Andi’s thin frame and pulled her closer.

“No problem, Bambi,” she teased. “Have you gotten a chance to read the Mary Oliver I gave you yesterday?”

Andi rested her head on Amber’s chest. “I’ve read a few poems. I really like her so far. Very… transcendental, almost. Like if the transcendentalists got their heads out of their own asses.”

Amber laughed at the comment. “She’s one of my favorites. I was hoping you’d like her,” she said, before remembering the books within her bag. “My aunt said that she was one of her biggest influences. It’s probably why I like her work so much.”

There was a brief moment of silence, as if both girls weren’t sure of what to say to keep the conversation going. Without thinking, Amber had been running her hands through Andi’s hair. She only became conscious of the motion once the silence filled the air.

“Are you weirded out by any of this?” Amber asked, insecurity taking the place of the quiet stillness within the room. She stopped her hands.

“What do you mean?” Andi sat up to look at her. “What about this would weird me out? We’ve been affectionate like this for years. I’ve always been an affectionate friend. You’ve seen the Good Hair Crew cuddle piles.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Amber bit her lip. “Some people would be weirded out. I mean, affection is one thing when it’s between two straight girls, but when you throw lesbianism into the mix, it…” her gaze flicked off to the corner of the room. “It can be weird for some people.”

“It isn’t weird for me,” Andi laid down on Amber again, this time her head resting on the other girl’s thighs. “I mean, not in a  _ ‘I’m grossed out by this lesbian’s audacity to try to be friends with me’  _ kind of way.”

“Is it weird in a different way?”

> **_we stand on the edge of a cliff that hates us,_ **
> 
> **_and we say, you’re not taking me, dead_ **
> 
> **_or alive. i am not your bloodletting,_ **

“Not necessarily,” Andi’s voice quivered. She sat up again. This time, Amber sat up with her and the two faced each other, a healthy amount of distance between them.

“What does that mean? Not necessarily?” Amber asked, her voice having a hesitant playfulness in its tone. Andi inched her folded legs closer to Amber’s to the point where their kneecaps were touching. Amber’s heart began racing at the contact.

“It’s not weird in a bad way,” Andi said before letting out a nervous giggle. “You’ve misjudged a lot of things, Amber. I don’t find your affection weird because you’re a lesbian.”

All Amber was able to do was stare at Andi and let her continue speaking. Her heart pounded in her ears. She had a vague idea of where Andi might be going with all of this, but she wasn’t certain. How she wished so,  _ so  _ badly she was right.

> **_your sorry trope for shock. try and stop me_ **
> 
> **_from living._ **

“Part of me finds it… not  _ weird _ , but… awkward, I guess… but not because  _ you’re  _ gay,” Andi was stumbling over her words. She placed a shaking hand on Amber’s knee. “It makes me nervous, I guess, because…  _ I’m  _ gay. And I don’t know if that changes any expectations but… I’m a lesbian.”

> **_try. try. try._ **


	6. When I Was Straight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andi's life has gotten a lot more complicated now that Amber knows. Though, this doesn't prevent the two from going on an adventure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poem used: "I Didn't Love Women as I Do Now" from "When I Was Straight" by Julie Marie Wade

> **_When I was straight,_ **
> 
> **_I did not love women as I do now._ **

Andi wasn’t sure  _ why  _ it slipped out the way it did. She had never been one for formal coming outs— she had always found it stupid. But here they were: on Andi’s bed, her hand resting on Amber’s leg. In all fairness, she hadn’t really expected to explicitly come out to Amber— she kind of just hoped the other girl would catch on. And she  _ definitely  _ didn’t expect to feel emotion building up in her chest and the feeling of an impending cry come from the back of her throat.

_ “Oh”  _ was all that Amber had managed to say at first. They were still incredibly close, their legs still touching, Andi’s hand still in the same place. Andi went to move her hand away and went to scoot a little further away to create some distance, only for Amber to gently grab her hand and place it back in its original position.

“You don’t have to move,” Amber adjusted herself so the two were facing each other completely once again. “It’s okay. We can stay like this.”

> **_I loved them with my eyes closed, my back turned._ **
> 
> **_I loved them silent, & startled, & shy._ **

Andi made direct contact with Amber’s soft green eyes, causing her stomach to twist once more. A piece of her long, golden hair was dangling in front of her face. Andi, with trembling hands and halted breath, tucked it tenderly behind her ear. Her fingers traced across the softness of her cheeks, remembering where the golden paint had been.

“I w-wasn’t planning on telling you like this,” Andi’s voice wavered as she spoke. “Or, at all really. I was just kind of hoping you got the hint. I hate coming out; I just think it’s so  _ stupid,  _ you know? To make a big deal and get all nervous about whether or not your friends will still care about you. I just— I don’t know— I guess I just want to exist. I never  _ had  _ to come out to my parents, they just kind of accepted it when I talked about girl crushes.”

“I’m glad you did,” Amber grabbed both of Andi’s hands, stroking the backs of them with her thumbs. “I’m pretty clueless, you know. I probably would have never known. I can be pretty thick-headed sometimes.”

“You?” Andi gasped. “Never!”

“Never,” Amber chuckled. “You know, in all honesty, I should have figured things out sooner. You did take quite an interest in my  _ feminist  _ poetry. Granted, the fact that you didn’t know that Adrienne Rich was a lesbian did set off  _ major  _ hetero vibes.”

Andi shoved her playfully. “Hey! I’m just dumb sometimes, okay? You can accuse me of being a lot of things, Amber Kippen, but  _ never  _ accuse me of being a heterosexual. The absolute audacity.”

“Damn, Jonah Beck really  _ is  _ the universal go-to beard,” the other girl said as she grabbed her phone and began scrolling through it. “I wonder what  _ that  _ does to his self-confidence. Does he have a girlfriend currently?”

“Not that I know of,” Andi responded. “Why do you ask? Are you looking to fill the role?”

“Shut up.”

“Nope,” she giggled, messing up Amber’s hair as she teased. “If I shut up, then what would be my fun, endearing quality? What would you do with a stick-in-the-mud?”

Andi noticed Amber kept going back to her phone, looking sometimes just to see if there were any notifications before setting it back down. Every time she looked at it, her face grew more disappointed.

“Looking for a text from TJ?”

“Is it that obvious?”

There were a few moments of extended silence. Amber had grabbed her phone again and Andi, through craning her neck a bit too much, could see her message screen open, the little bar blinking. She typed something and erased it, repeating the process a few times. With a groan, she pressed the call button. It rang twice before a soft  _ hello  _ came from the other side.

“I can go if you want,” Andi said, getting off the bed. “Give you some privacy to talk.”

“Don’t be stupid, Andi,” Amber responded. “It’s your house— I’m not gonna kick you out. Hello, TJ? How are you? Have mom and dad spoken to you about stuff yet?” Andi couldn’t hear what TJ was saying. “Do you want me to come home? I was at Andi’s— I stormed out. Mom was pissing me off. I’ll be there in a bit. Love you.”

“Leaving me so soon?”

Amber sighed, pressing her hands against her temples. Andi walked up from behind her and wrapped her arms around her friend’s waist, resting her head on her shoulder. Amber let out a single small, pathetic-sounding laugh. “I wish I weren’t. Dad came home and threw a fit that I wasn’t there. I think through the yelling they let it slip to TJ that they were separating. I don’t… want to leave him there alone. It’s not fair. It sucks… I wish I didn’t have to go.”

Amber turned herself around so she and Andi were now facing each other, Andi’s arms still wrapped around her. “I wish you didn’t have to deal with all of this stuff either. It sounds stupid, I guess, but sometimes I wish the world could just be us two. Just for a little bit. Adults have to make everything so complicated.”

“I feel that,” she responded with another heavy sigh. “I hate adults. I wish things were uncomplicated, but it just can’t be, I guess. It’s whatever. Sharon will just have a great time with me at therapy this week. Thank you. For keeping things uncomplicated. Well, as uncomplicated as being two gay teenagers can be.”

Andi wondered whether or not things were truly uncomplicated between her and Amber. If Amber knew how Andi felt about her, would that only complicate things more? Perhaps their friendship was only uncomplicated because they both assumed things remained platonic and comfortable between the both of them. Anything else would be too confusing, too messy. But, leaving it unsaid was confusing and messy on its own. She just wanted to kiss her.

“Hey, Amber?” Andi, once again, spoke without thinking.

“Yeah?”

“I—” she stopped herself from continuing. “I just wanted you to drive safe. And take care of yourself when you get home. I… care… about you.”

Amber laughed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I care about you too. See you later, Big Mack. I’ll make sure to take care of myself.”

Andi didn’t correct her on the nickname before she turned away and walked out of the house. She fell back onto her soft sheets and, despite the sun only having just gone down, she began to doze off. Realistically, there was no excuse to be so exhausted, but she knew. Her emotions themselves were tiresome.

> **_The world was a dreamless slumber party,_ **
> 
> **_sleeping bags like straitjackets spread out on_ **
> 
> **_the living room floor, my face pressed into a_ **
> 
> **_slender pillow._ **

Andi’s sleep was filled with dreams of soft, amber hair and pale green eyes that seemed more welcoming than any other entity in the world. The scent of coconut shampoo and vanilla perfume. It wasn’t the first time she had dreamed about Amber, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

She dreamed of laughter-laced confessions followed by soft, sweet kisses (Amber’s lips were always impossibly soft and tasted of cherry— Andi vaguely remembered having seen her apply cherry-flavored chapstick a few times and the memory had simply stuck) and even softer caresses.

She woke up with the feeling of Dream-Amber’s lips like a fresh ghost upon her own. She placed her fingertips to where the imaginary kiss had been (though it had felt so real!) and sighed wistfully. Much to her surprise, it was morning. She had slept for almost eleven hours. It was almost impressive. At least Buffy and Cyrus might be entertained by the story of her weekend, as complex and emotionally confusing as it was.

Her  _ hey im driving you to school today  _ text from Amber arrived earlier than she was expecting, causing her face to light up at the kitchen table during breakfast time.

“What’s got you so smiley, Andiman?” Bex asked over her cup of coffee.

“Nothing,” she tried to brush her mother off, though she knew it would be unsuccessful. Her and Bex had grown so close that they could read each other well. “These are just  _ really  _ good toaster tarts.”

“Are they now?” she raised an eyebrow. “And just  _ how  _ good are these toaster tarts? About the same quality as the toaster tarts you were eating when you came home with that book that Amber lent you?”

“Around there,” she shrugs. “Maybe not  _ as  _ good, but there’s a lot behind this specific toaster tart that makes it taste a lot better.”

Bex stood up and placed her hands on Andi’s shoulders. “Are they the  _ I-have-a-girlfriend-now  _ kind of tarts?”

“No… not yet,” Andi sighed. “And I’m not sure if I’ll  _ ever  _ get to have that. What flavor would that be anyway?”

A pause for thought. “Cherry,” Bex eventually said definitively. “It’s the most sapphic of flavors. Cherry is  _ definitely  _ the I-have-a-girlfriend-now flavor. But what makes you so unsure that it won’t happen?”

“I don’t know,” Andi winced. “I mean, it’s just that Amber and I have been such close friends for so long and I’m not sure if she’d think it’d be weird and Amber’s also just  _ so  _ pretty and out of my league—”

“Hey,” Bex cut her off. “Stop that. You’re  _ gorgeous,  _ Andi. Any girl would be lucky to have you.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re my mom and you’re obligated to.”

“Hey, I say this because I’m your mom and that means that half of you is me and the other half is _Bowie_ and I don’t think any combination of those genes could make an ugly baby.”

“Okay, you have a point.”

“Don’t I always?” her mother wore a smug smile on her face as she sat back down, taking a dramatic sip of her coffee. “You know what? I’m going to buy cherry toaster tarts on my way home today. And, when that box is opened, I’ll know.”

“A waste of toaster tarts, truly,” Andi sighed. “To have a box that’ll never be opened.”

> **_All night I woke to rain on the strangers' windows._ **

The car ride with Amber was a little more silent than usual. Neither her nor TJ really seemed to have anything to say; their faces bearing an identical solemn expression.

“I’m guessing it didn’t get better when you got home?” Andi wasn’t  _ fond  _ of sitting in silence most of the time. It made her restless. Even when she lived with Cece and Pops, both of whom would often leave her home alone, she had to fill the vacant air with sound. “You didn’t text me. I mean, I had fallen asleep, but I woke up to zero texts from you.”

“It was just really… bad. Mom stormed out. Dad tried to follow her. TJ and I just talked for a while. It is what it is.”

“I’m sorry…” Andi couldn’t think of what else to say, casting a glance at Amber’s face. She was unable to read her expression, which struck her as highly unusual. They had known each other for years and Amber was an expressive person; Andi usually was able to gauge what she was thinking. Or, so she thought at least.

“It’s whatever,” both Kippens spoke at the same time, causing them to glare at each other.

“Can we, uh, never do that again? Makes me feel like we’re those horror movie twins,” TJ scoffed. “Even though we’re neither identical nor twins. It’s still weird.”

“I don’t know. I think we should trick people into thinking we have telepathy. It’d be  _ so  _ funny. I could pretend to read your thoughts.”

“Really? And what are my thoughts right now, Amber? What am I thinking of  _ right  _ now?”

“That hockey player— what’s his name, the one you like on the Devils even though you hate the Devils with the— Taylor Hall! You’re thinking about Taylor Hall’s ass.”

“Lucky guess.”

Andi couldn’t help but laugh. It was nice to have the atmosphere of the car change as they pulled into the drive-thru to get coffee. “Do you really talk about hockey players’ asses that often for Amber to be able to  _ guess  _ it?”

“Yes,” both Kippen siblings say in unison once again.

> **_No one remembered to leave a light on in the hall._ **
> 
> **_Someone’s father always seemed to be shaving._ **

As always, Buffy and Cyrus walked together to school. And, for the past few days since Amber’s been driving her, they waited for Andi to catch up before heading inside. Amber walked away, blowing a kiss to either her and/or TJ (who, for some reason, stuck around today).

“We… don’t talk much,” TJ said, not making eye contact. “I think that’s weird. You spend a lot of time with my sister. I spend a lot of time with your friends.”

“Huh,” Andi thought about it for a second and realized he had made an excellent point. She knew very little about TJ, but he was a consistent background character in her life. She’d heard his name from Cyrus almost every day. “I guess you’re right. We don’t talk much. I mean, I’m walking to meet Buffy and Cyrus if you want to walk with me.”

“Sure.” An awkwardly long pause. “What should we talk about?”

“I… don’t know actually,” she lets out an awkward laugh. “All I know about you is that you play basketball and you used to be a shitty person and now you’re not and also occasional fun stories that Cyrus and/or Buffy tell me.”

“Amber doesn’t shut up about you,” TJ rolls his eyes. “I  _ wish  _ she would sometimes. It’s always  _ Andi’s so smart and good at art!  _ or  _ Andi and I did this today! _ and it’s so annoying! But, I guess I’m the only person she can really talk to about you. It’s not like she has a plethora of close friends.”

“Fair enough. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“I play piano. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“I’m a lesbian.”

Andi had no fucking idea  _ why  _ she blurted it out to TJ like that. It was the first fun fact she could think about herself that didn’t involve her art. Just  _ oh hi my name is Andi Mack and I’m gay!  _ She couldn’t have told him her middle name was Love after Courtney Love but also because it matched Bex’s teenage mom hippie vibes and Celia refused to acknowledge it? No, she decided to rip the bandage off.

“Oh,” TJ replied. “I’m gay. I mean, not a lot of people know that about me. I can’t remember if Cyrus knows. I think Buffy does. I don’t keep track if they don’t mention it to me.”

This isn’t how she was expecting her morning to go.

“Amber knows,” TJ continued. “So you don’t have to worry about keeping it a secret from her. Does she know about you?”

“Only since yesterday,” Andi explained. It was kind of funny, actually. How quick she was to say it now. Part of her wanted to scream it out at the top of her lungs. The other part of her still thought coming out was stupid. She shouldn’t  _ have  _ to scream it.

TJ kicked a pebble that had fallen into his path, his eyes focused on the ground. “Do you like her? My sister?”

“Of course I like her,” Andi brushed off his comment. She knew he meant more than that but maybe if she played dumb he wouldn’t continue pushing.

TJ stopped walking and faced Andi directly. The look on his face said it all:  _ I know you’re avoiding the question, Andi. Stop avoiding it.  _ “That’s not what I mean and you know it.Do you have feelings for her? Romantic feelings?”

“I don’t know why I’m being  _ interrogated  _ about how I feel about Amber!” her voice had a certain level of panic to it. “Maybe I do but why would I tell you when you could just go around and tell her?”

“I wasn’t trying to upset you…” his face is back to a classic TJism. A roll of the eyes and a sigh; hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “You guys just seem close and I wanted to know if there was anything more to it. You make Amber happy. Don’t tell her I said this, but it’s nice, you know? To see her happy.”

“Awww, you care about your sister!” she teased. “But, to answer your question. Yes. I like her. I have for a while. But you can’t tell her.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” he crosses his heart. “I’m glad I stuck around to talk to you today. It’s been an interesting walk.”

“Why  _ did  _ you decide to anyway?” they continue the walk, Andi is able to see Buffy’s curls from the distance. “It’s not like we ever really talked before this.”

“Take a lucky guess,” TJ smiles as he looks in the same direction. With his height (he had a good half foot on Andi at least), he was probably able to see both of them better than Andi was.

> **_When I stood up, I tried to tiptoe_ **

TJ wrapped his arm around Cyrus the moment they met up. Cyrus’s excited smile directed at Andi and Buffy led her to believe this was unexpected. TJ had walked with her to meet up with Cyrus.

The two boys wound up walking off together, leaving Andi and Buffy to walk by themselves. Buffy seemed quite intent on watching their movements.

“Do you think they’re dating?”

“I don’t think so,” Andi responds, dwelling on her conversation with TJ. “I definitely think they both like each other, but I don’t think Cyrus would hide it if he were dating someone unless TJ told him specifically not to. Which I don’t think would make sense, considering TJ is out to you.”

Buffy stopped in her tracks. Andi seemed to be doing this a lot this morning. “How did  _ you  _ know TJ was out to me?”

“He told me,” she replied nonchalantly. It was a question that really only had one simple answer to it; though she suspected it was simply an answer Buffy wasn’t expecting. “He came out to me today.”

“Why?”

“I came out to him first.”

Buffy’s eyebrows lifted, her face displaying clear surprise. “You came out to TJ? Andi, you  _ hate  _ coming out to people. You think it’s stupid that people need to be told when someone deviates from heteronormative culture and find the need to come out as nothing but a reinforcement and prime example of heteronormativity. Your very lengthy reasoning, not mine. I just came out with a big old bi pride social media post and that was it.”

“Listen, I  _ know  _ I hate it, which makes it even  _ weirder  _ and more insufferable that I’ve done it twice in two days,” she groans, resting her head on the taller girl’s shoulder. A hidden benefit of being the shortest of her friends.

“Wait.  _ Twice? _ Go on.”

“I came out to Amber yesterday. It was… weird. Well, not weird. Just… I don’t know. Kinda gay?” Andi fumbled trying to explain it. She remembered how insecure Amber felt about her own affections, about whether or not she was going to scare Andi off.

“Well, if it isn’t kinda gay, I don’t really think it can count as a coming out,” Buffy jokes. “I mean, unless you’re one of those people who decides to come out as straight on national coming out day, but like no one  _ wants  _ to be one of those people.”

“Well, like,  _ gayer  _ than a normal coming out is,” Andi wasn’t sure how to describe what happened with Amber. Nor was she really even able to describe how it made her feel. Nervous, definitely. “She was upset and we were at my house and doing normal friendship stuff.”

“Friendship stuff?” Buffy cocks an eyebrow loaded with heavy suspicion. “Define this  _ friendship stuff  _ you’ve got going on with Amber.”

“We were cuddling in my bed, my head on her chest, her hands running through my hair,” Andi began to explain.

“I see. Friendship stuff. Totally.”

“I cuddle with you and Cyrus all the time!”

“There’s no romantic feelings between you and Cyrus,” Buffy states quite matter-of-factly. “Or you and me. Anymore, at least.”

“Anyway, she asked if I was weirded out by her being so affectionate. Because I knew she was a lesbian. And she sat up and looked so  _ scared  _ and  _ sad  _ and I felt so bad for her. So I said no, it wasn’t weird in that kind of way.”

“In  _ that  _ kind of way? Implying it was weird in a different kind of way?”

“That’s what she said!” Andi exclaimed. Buffy always tended to guess where her stories were going, but she supposed it was a side effect of being friends for so long. “So I said I didn’t find it weird because  _ she  _ was gay.”

“But it was weird because you were?” the other girl taps Andi’s arm repeatedly out of excitement. “Did you tell her you liked her? Because that  _ certainly  _ implies it!”

Andi lets out a long sigh. “No. But the whole atmosphere was strange. Almost… tender? I guess? If that’s a good way to describe it. It felt like a weird teen romance movie. Our legs were vaguely touching, my hand was on her knee. I tried to move it once I told her and she placed it back. We stayed there for a bit, but I could tell she was worried about her own stuff so I let it go.”

“You have to tell her you like her! She totally likes you back, it’d be stupid not to!” the two were quickly approaching the point where they had to split ways to get to their separate classes. “As someone who was formerly on the crushing-on-Andi-Mack train, I can verify you’re a catch. Amber would have to be stupider than her brother to not get that.”

Andi felt the blush rise on her face. “I do appreciate your very strong belief in my charms, but I’m still a baby. A baby who really should be getting to her bio class. I’ll see you around?”

“If you’re not too busy making out with Amber,” Buffy teased. “See ya.”

“I  _ did  _ probably almost kiss her on Saturday.”

“You  _ WHAT?” _

“Anyway, have a nice gay! Day! See ya!”

Andi’s thoughts throughout the day were primarily filled with Amber. She had received a text message nearing the end of her biology class. While it didn’t say much, it intrigued her enough to fill her thoughts for the rest of the day.

**Amber:** don’t make plans for the rest of the night after school

**Amber:** I have adventure plans

What these adventure plans  _ were  _ exactly remained unknown, but Andi would be lying if she said she wasn’t intrigued. She filled the rest of her day with Mary Oliver and sapphic daydreams.

> **_around the sleeping bodies, their long hair_ **
> 
> **_speckled with confetti, their faces blanched by the_ **
> 
> **_porch-light moon._ **

When Andi walked out of her last class, Amber was already outside the classroom door, jingling keys in hand. It wasn’t until seeing her leaned against the wall, a smug and potentially-flirty grin on her face, that Andi appreciated how  _ stunning  _ Amber had looked today. The diet-goth look was suiting her well. Or maybe any already pretty girl could just look 10x more gorgeous in dark lipstick and ripped jeans tucked into platform boots. Or, a more likely possibility, Andi secretly liked goth girls.

“Ready to go, Bambi?”

Her heart quickened at being called Bambi. It had been a nickname between the two of them for over a year, there was no  _ reason  _ for it to give her butterflies like it did. Though I suppose she couldn’t shove down her feelings like she had been able to earlier.

“Am I allowed to ask you where we’re going?”

“Well, first to my house to drop TJ off. And then, it’s a surprise.”

“Visiting surprise places with you is a dangerous ordeal, Kippen,” Andi teases. “I distinctly remember  _ someone  _ abandoning me on top of a ferris wheel where I had to be escorted down by the police.”

“That was over two years ago,” Amber said in mock-offense. “Let it go already. You know more than anyone how much we’ve grown since then.”

“The fear of heights instilled in me lives on,” Andi sighs wistfully, though the warmth in her expression exposes its falsehood.

“Unfortunate,” she sighs. “You might need to get over it in the next couple hours.”

“What are you doing?”

“Like I said,” she boops the tip of Andi’s nose. “It’s a surprise.”

Andi trusted Amber more than her track record would normally permit, but it was natural to fear the unexpected. Especially in a situation where Andi  _ knew  _ Amber wasn’t at her peak of mental and emotional stability.

“Can we not do anything illegal at least? For a fifteen year-old, my list of criminal misdemeanors is… impressive,” she jokes, but it was true. Through doing the right thing a lot of the time, Andi managed to make herself a bit of a troublemaker.

“I make no promises,” was all Amber replied with, which did absolutely  _ nothing  _ to soothe the anxiety welling up within her.

The drive back to Amber’s house felt friendlier than the ride there. Time away seemed to make both Kippen siblings calmer, though there was a tangible rise in the anxious energy as they pulled into the driveway.

“There aren’t any cars in the driveway, T,” Amber sighed, the tension in her shoulders visibly dissipating. “Are you going to be okay if they come home when I’m out?”

“I’m going to Cyrus’s house in a bit anyway,” TJ replied. “I have math homework and his tricks with me have been helping since we cancelled the tutor to…”

He cuts himself off; his look at Andi made her think he had forgotten she was in the car. “Nevermind. It’s not important.”

Andi opened her mouth, as if to speak, but shut it again. The Kippen house was empty when they opened the door, save for Macaroni who hopped up on the couch to greet her owners. Amber gave her a scritch on the ears, a small smile on her face. Her smile was beautiful. A smiling goth.

“She’s probably my second favorite living creature on this earth,” Amber said, before cooing to the cat on the couch, scratching her more.

“Who’s the first?”

“You.”

Amber had said it so simply and immediately, as if it was meant to have little to no impact on her. But, goddamn those words hit like a truck.  _ She  _ was Amber’s favorite? What had she done to win such a title?

“Am I?” was all she could manage to react with.  _ God, Andi, you’re so stupid. Can’t do anything better than that?  _

“Of course,” Amber winked. She headed into her room and, less than a minute later, came out with a tiny drawstring bag on her back. “Are you ready to head out?”

Andi cocked an eyebrow, but followed Amber as she headed out the door, not waiting for a verbal reply from Andi. The late afternoon sunlight painted her skin the most beautiful hue, though Andi prompted herself not to stare. She couldn’t stare at girls like that. It was weird, especially now that Amber knew. She didn’t want to hint at the interest that was there.

It always came with a stigma: loving women. Boundaries had to be drawn. Affectionate smiles were repressed. It was a fear, she supposed, of being seen as predatory. Unwanted. The feeling of wanting to touch, but not even daring to look. But Amber should be different. She was also gay. There shouldn’t have been that mandated repression, but instinct was always hard to push back against.

She decided she would allow herself to stare at Amber more when they were in the car.

“Am I allowed to know where we’re going yet, Amber?” Andi asked over the music Amber blasted in the car. She couldn’t help but be amused and a tad bit surprised at Amber’s music taste; it sounded like she had walked into a Hot Topic in 2012.

“Well, we can’t go where I want to go until it gets dark,” Amber sighed. Okay, so it was  _ definitely  _ at least a little illegal. “But I am a little hungry. Are you?”

“A little. If we’re trying to kill time…”

“Perfect,” she keeps her eyes on the road. It was comforting to know that, despite the reckless behavior she had continued to show for years, Amber was a relatively safe driver. At least when Andi was in the car, she couldn’t testify to her solo rides. “Hope you don’t mind that it’s not The Spoon. I just don’t feel like running into my coworkers. They always try to talk to me.”

Andi rolled her eyes. “God forbid people try to talk to you. I guess there’s no point in asking where we’re going to eat?”

“Oh, Andi darling, you know me so well.”

> **_I never knew exactly where the bathroom was._ **

The two sat down in a cafe that seemed crawling with flowering plants. It was a pretty place, though the decor that wasn’t plant-themed seemed kind of witchy. The hostess seemed to know Amber, greeting her familiarly.

“Do you come here often?” Andi asked, perusing the menu they handed them. “They seemed to know you.”

“They have good vegan mac and cheese,” she replied nonchalantly.

“You’re not vegan.”

“And? I can appreciate it,” Amber answered, setting her menu down. “I also  _ was  _ drawn to a witchy cafe owned by two lesbians when I read about it. So, I go occasionally. It’s not a big deal.”

“I thought you’ve only started identifying as a lesbian recently.”

“I thought I was a  _ really  _ good ally. Or, like, maybe bisexual. You know?” Amber smiled and placed the order for both of them. “Trust my judgment, Bambi.”

The two discussed things that had little importance in the realm of the universe: annoying class assignments (Amber still dreaded writing the novel for creative writing) and recent events. Amber shied away from discussing her family too much (it made her anxious, so Andi avoided the topic). She was right, their mac and cheese  _ was  _ delicious.

They took time with their coffees and the dessert, waiting until the sun had begun to go down before paying and leaving.

Once they were back in Amber’s car, the same edgy playlist blasting through the speakers, Andi asked again where they were going. “Be patient, you’ll find out,” the other responded. And they drove.

The dusk lighting made her features so much softer than anticipated. Andi felt the need to spend a straight 24 hours outside with Amber, solely to see how the light of the progressing day highlighted her beauty. She understood all of those impressionists who would paint the same scene over and over again in different lighting. She could paint a thousand Ambers cast in different hues, with different shadows, and every single one would be extraordinary. The way she sang out loud to Paramore at dusk was a different masterpiece than the Amber that grabbed coffee before school.

They were driving uphill. It wasn’t terribly steep, but a little too winding and steep for Andi’s liking. She gripped the side of the car door, her nerves getting the better of her (“Stop being a baby!” Amber teased).

Amber pulled into an empty parking lot and stepped out, the sound of gravel beneath her feet and noises caused by the gentle breeze being the only noises to focus on. Andi stepped out after her, inspecting the area curiously.

Amber took her hand and began leading her through the gated entrance. This probably qualified as trespassing. Wonderful. Another charge on her list of misdemeanors. Colleges were going to  _ love  _ that. It was when Andi began seeing  _ gravestones  _ that she scoffed in disbelief.

“Did you take me to a  _ cemetery,  _ Amber?” she speaks in a hushed tone. “I think you’re taking the goth thing a little far, don’t you?”

“I didn’t just take you to a cemetery for no good reason, Andi. Have a little more faith in me. Gosh,” she gave her hand a squeeze. “Besides, lots of poets hang out in cemeteries. They say it helps them think or something.”

“Did we come here so you could write?”

“Of course not,” Amber rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say  _ I  _ wrote in cemeteries. Though maybe I should give it a try… but that’s not the point. I wanted to show you something here.”

“And how exactly did you  _ find  _ it?”

“That’s a secret,” she tapped the tip of Andi’s nose with her finger. “I have to keep  _ some  _ air of mystery around myself, don’t I? Gotta keep things interesting?”

“Interesting is  _ one  _ way to phrase  _ I hang out in graveyards enough to know it well enough to want to show my best friend something in it,  _ I guess. It makes me worry about you.”

“Listen, I’m just a rebellious teen” Amber scrunched her nose a bit when she smiled. Her face fell a few seconds later. She shook her head and continued walking. “Let’s keep moving?”

“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

“You’re not happy being here with me?” she pouted. Andi shook her head. “Pity… because I am.”

> **_I tried to wake the host girl to ask her, but she was_ **
> 
> **_only one adrift in that sea of bodies. I was ashamed_ **

What caught Andi’s eye first were the flowers on the tree. A beautiful shade of pink bloomed brightly in October, the way one might have expected them to in April.

“They have different flowering trees planted around here so, no matter what time of year it is, something is always blooming. The graves always have petals scattered on them. I thought it was really pretty,” Amber’s voice was soft, perhaps a little melancholy. “Or touching, I guess. Some of these graves are old. No one places flowers on them anymore.”

Andi mindlessly touched one of the lower hanging branches, bringing the flowers closer to her. “You sound like some manic pixie dream girl in a John Green novel. I hope you know that,” Andi joked. “The kind of girl who collects poetry and hangs out in graveyards and paints her room and goes goth on a whim.”

“TJ says I’m having a crisis,” Amber shrugged. “I think I’m just going to ride it out. Though the John Green comment  _ does  _ sting. I just think I should be allowed to be as feral and unhinged as I want to.”

Andi playfully bumped into the blonde’s side. “I just don’t get how this all started. I mean, how did you find this place?” she paused. “Mystery girl. Right.”

“I’m becoming my Aunt Amelia,” Amber answered. “Part of it’s intentional because I look up to her so much, the other part just happened to me. She wrote about this place. She’s… buried here somewhere, I think. Or nearby. I don’t know. My mom usually visits her grave. I don’t typically. But I remembered it when reading one of her poems. Maybe she was the cheesy kind of gothic romantic poet who wrote in graveyards.”

“So  _ she  _ was the manic pixie dream girl that you aspire to be?”

“Except without the annoying white boy who pines after us trying to fix us, hoping he can help tame out wild spirit,” another eyeroll. “Who let boys write anyway? An awful decision.”

Andi couldn’t stifle the snort laugh that came out of her mouth. “God, you have a point. Who let men write  _ women  _ is the better question? I wonder if they ever even, like, talked to a girl sometimes.”

There was another fit of laughter between the two, and then silence. Both girls seemed to take turns looking at each other. Every time they met eyes, both pairs looked away. Andi tried so,  _ so  _ hard not to stare.  _ You’re going to make her uncomfortable if you keep yearning like this,  _ she told herself. It wasn’t working. The way the moon illuminated her features quelled her thoughts.  _ God, you’re a sap, Andi. _

“How afraid of heights are you?” Amber, once again, was the one to break the silence. “Follow up question, have you ever climbed a tree before?”

“Very, and yeah but not well!” the other replied, fear imminent in her voice. “Why do you insist on doing things that could get me killed and/or arrested?”

“I just saw a really sturdy oak. Thought, since we’re already on a bit of a peak, it could get us a nice view,” Amber shrugged, before her face lit up. Wait, there’s a park a little bit  _ further  _ uphill. There’s a ladder for a  _ really  _ cool treehouse that lets you see the view from up there! Come on!”

“Don’t most parks close at dusk? Isn’t that a thing?” trepidation is apparent in her voice. “I mean, your affinity for being places you shouldn’t be is a definite concern.”

“Don’t worry, Bambi,” Amber places a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’ll protect you.”

It was a short drive uphill; Andi didn’t get why they didn’t simply walk there. But, she wasn’t the one with the car, so the decision making was up to Amber. Her face was bright and excited, teeming with life. Andi had come to the conclusion that Amber coped with her stresses by electing to ignore them. She went on this adventure to avoid dealing with her parents. Andi was just glad that she wasn’t alone; that Amber had her.

The moment Andi stepped out of the car, Amber dragged her to the tree with the ladder and the little lookout point.

“You go first,” Amber told her. “That way I can catch you if you fall. Since you’re still afraid of heights.”

“I’m afraid of heights because of  _ you,  _ thank you very much,” Andi groaned, but climbed up anyway. Amber followed not long after until both of them sat in the tiny tree-house. It wasn’t very large, but it was comfortable with the two of them in it.

Amber sat on the bench that faced the window. “Look out here,” she says with a smile. “It’s a beautiful view. The  _ second  _ best view in Shadyside. So now you’ve seen the top two views in Shadyside.”

“The top three if I can count you,” Andi spoke without thinking. These were words and feelings that were meant to be contained. It was stupid. Of course it was stupid. God, she was stupid.

“Are you  _ flirting  _ with me, Andi?” Amber’s voice was light and teasing. Maybe she didn’t find great offense to her sudden audacity.

“Maybe,” she replied awkwardly— it felt like her 13th birthday again and she was interacting with Jonah Beck at the frisbee lesson. That was the first day she had met her. It wasn’t even the biggest thing that had happened that day— when her life turned upside down. But she did remember being taken aback by how pretty she was.

“At least take in the view first,” the older girl told her. It  _ was _ gorgeous; the street lamps looked like little specks. The lights of downtown Shadyside looked more like the fairy lights she hung in her bedroom than a city. Her mouth fell slightly agape and she looked at Amber once more.

“Beautiful.”

“I know,” a pause. “Hey, Andi?”

“Yeah?”

“I lied yesterday. When I thanked you for making things so uncomplicated,” she played with the ends of her wavy, blonde hair. “It’s… not uncomplicated. Not for  _ me,  _ at least.”

Andi’s eyes widened. The words came out very slowly; she was afraid of their impact. “What do you mean?”

She heard Amber take a deep breath. She felt the hand tilt her chin up and the feeling of soft lips on her own. Cherry chapstick. Andi felt her own breath stop and her eyes flutter shut as she kissed Amber back.

Neither one wanted to pull away first, so it lingered; Andi took in every sensation that she could. She was trespassing in a park, looking out at city lights, kissing Amber Kippen. It didn’t feel real.

> **_to say they all looked the same to me, beautiful &_ **
> 
> **_untouchable as stars. It would be years before_ **

“It’s always been complicated. I’ve wanted to do that for years,” Amber exhaled when she pulled away.

“Now you have,” Andi responded, her mind still foggy with thoughts of Amber. It was all she  _ could  _ respond with.

“Yeah,” she says before her face falls. “I should, um, drive you home. It’s getting late. You have parents that care about you.”

The ride home was silent. Awkward. Neither one of them knew where to go from there. Andi didn’t dare steal a look from Amber.

She took the initiative in permeating the silence this time. “I finished the book you gave me. The Mary Oliver poems. I liked them. I was wondering if you had another one.”

“The black drawstring bag by your feet. Julie Marie Wade,” her reply was short. “I figured you’d be finished with Oliver soon so I came prepared. Just give me the other book you have back sometime tomorrow.”

It went quiet again until the car pulled into Andi’s driveway.

“Goodnight,” Andi said.

“Goodnight.”

Andi went to shut the door, though Amber got out with her.

“Andi—”

She paused in front of Amber, who inched closer to her face again before stopping herself. “Just, have a goodnight, I guess.”

“You too,”  _ what the fuck was that, Amber? Why can’t you look me in the eye?  _ “I guess.”

When Andi walked into her house and into the kitchen to grab a drink of water, she saw a box of cherry toaster tarts on the counter. She held it in her hands, debating opening it.  She tore the lid a  _ tad bit  _ before setting it down once again.

> **_I learned to find anyone in the sumptuous,_ **
> 
> **_terrifying dark._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took a lot longer than i wanted but this summer has also been the worst summer of my life so pls be understanding


End file.
